


The Ending of an Era

by thisthattother



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dark Merlin, Episode: s02e03 The Nightmare Begins, F/M, Magic Revealed, Minor Character Death, Rebellion, minor Gwen/Lancelot - Freeform, which is mostly normal merlin under different pressures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-04-03 00:09:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4079146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisthattother/pseuds/thisthattother
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite her injury, Morgana runs from the Camelot soldiers ransacking the Druid camp, taking Mordred with her, and Merlin is left to pay the price. Thirty suspected sorcerers, all trapped in Uther's dungeons, and sentenced to death unless Morgana returns. Merlin has to make a choice, one which will change his destiny forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gannonic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gannonic/gifts).



> Hi! So this is a rewrite of a story originally posted on Fanfiction.net, hopefully better planned this time. Chapters may be posted slightly sporadically, due to other commitments, but I'll try my best to not take too long.

He couldn’t take his eyes away from the scaffold, as much as he wanted to. From his angle, the other two victims were blocked by the crowd, but his view of the young girls waiting for execution was practically unhindered. Like the others, she was dressed plaining, and someone had pulled her hair back from her face with a bit of rope. And worst of all, she wouldn’t stop crying. He couldn’t bear it, watching this poor, terrified girl, barely older than he was, who was only there because of him. This was all his fault…

Gaius adjusted his position slightly, so that he was stood just in front of Merlin. “Calm yourself,” he muttered, “There’s nothing you can do.”

Merlin nodded, though he still couldn’t look away from the scaffold. He couldn’t do anything for these people now, not unless he wanted to be up there with them. Despite his best efforts, he still found himself looking for Arthur, in the mad hope that maybe he would put an end to this. But, no, Arthur was still gone, searching for Morgana. Merlin hadn’t even been able to do that right. He’d promised Morgana that he’d distract Arthur and his soldiers long enough for Mordred and herself to get away, but Arthur had managed to pick up their trail again all too quickly. Still, there was a chance that he’d caused enough of a delay to give them a chance. Only time would tell now.

The crowds around Merlin and Gaius suddenly hushed, and it took him a moment to realise why. Uther had finally emerged onto the balcony. Without pause, he launched straight into his speech.

“The kidnappers of the lady Morgana were warned of the consequences of their actions. They knew what would happen if she wasn’t returned to Camelot unharmed, and so they have brought this upon themselves. These sorcerers, like the others in Camelot’s custody, are their associates through their taint of magic, and therefore are traitors to the kingdom. Let the sorcerers who have taken the lady Morgana know that I make no idle threat, and until she is returned safely to me, three more of their associates will be executed each day.” He nodded to the executioner, who began to place the nooses around the necks of the poor people on the scaffold. The girl was sobbing loudly now. Merlin clenched his fists, and Gaius pressed closer against him.

“Hang them,” the king pronounced with a tone of utter contempt, and then it was over.

This was all his fault, this was all his fault, this was all his fault, this-

No, wait, Merlin thought suddenly, this wasn’t his fault. This was Uther’s. And it would stop here. He wasn’t going to let this go any further if he could help it. He couldn’t save that poor girl up there, but he could help the others like her, trapped in Camelot’s cells.

And despite his mood, and what he’d just witnessed, Merlin had to fight the urge to smile. He had the makings of a plan.

\---

“So, young warlock, despite my advice, you helped the witch-“

“Don’t call her that!”

“You helped the witch, and in the process condemned your own people to execution at Uther’s hands. Congratulations. None of this would have happened if you’d only listened to me for once.”

“They aren’t my people!” Merlin protested, “And what was I supposed to do, abandon her? You don’t know what it’s like, finding out about all this on your own, without anyone to even tell you what you are. And I didn’t have Uther for a guardian.”

“Taking her to the druids was one thing, Merlin,” the dragon snarled, “but you let her leave with them in the full knowledge of what that would mean here in Camelot. And now you come running to me for help again with a mistaken idea that everyone can win in this situation.”

Frustrated, Merlin paced up and down in front of Kilgharrah. “So that’s it then? You won’t help me?”

“There’s no need.” He responded, smugly, “The solution is within your means. Simply return Morgana to Camelot and your troubles are all over.”

“No, I won’t! There has to be another way! I’ll find it myself if I have to!”

“Merlin!” The dragon shouted, but he was already gone.

\---

It took him most of the rest of the night, but by dawn, Merlin had formed a plan of sorts. Not soon enough to save three of the supposed sorcerers, but he could still save the rest. Watching the execution of the two elderly men and a midwife only made him more focused.

Arthur had returned just after the execution, but Merlin hadn’t seen him yet, too busy making preparations for his plan. A couple of trips into the woods and he was done. Now all he had to do was wait…

The moment Gaius went to sleep, Merlin slipped his pack onto his shoulder and crept silently through the room. Only at the door did he hesitate, but he only shook his head and continued on towards the cells.

As always, several guards were sat down there on patrol, but Merlin was prepared for this. Softly, he muttered “ _swefe_ ” several times, until all the guards were slumped over, snoring, and then, more quickly, headed over to the cell doors.

“Who’s there? Who are you?” A prisoner called out, but Merlin ignored them.

“Stand back and turn your heads away. _Tospringe_!” He raised his hand to guard his eyes from the sudden flash of light, and then repeated the action for the other cells.

“Follow me, and hurry. Someone will have heard the noise.” He led them out through a back exit, knocking out any guard who crossed their paths. As such, by the time the warning bells sounded, as they were reaching the citadel gate, Merlin was exhausted.

“Run!” he cried out, “Make for the woods. I’ll hold them off.”

Several of the group nodded in response, hastening through the gate and helping those who couldn’t move as quickly. Merlin was close behind them, but all too soon he had to stop to deal with the pursuit closing in on them. With one short gesture of his hands, the first few knights flew off their horses, but reinforcements were close behind them.

“Alain! Roderick!” A familiar voice called out in concern.

Desperately, Merlin shouted “ _Ligfyr_!”, creating a barrier of fire between himself and the knights, and scaring the horses back a few steps. For a moment, Arthur’s face was lit by the glow of the flames, frozen in a look of shock and betrayal.

“No… No, this can’t be possible… Not you…”

Without a word, Merlin turned and ran.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT - Chapters 2 and 3 have now been merged, as they'd originally been planned, in case anyone's confused about the change in the numbers.

It had been nearly three months, and still Morgana found that she was adapting to her new life. The life of a lone peasant woman and a child was so different to the privileged life of a lady at court. Still, she loved Mordred, and if giving up the ease of her old life was the price she had to pay for that, then so be it. But still, it was so boring, day after day, doing the same work, meeting the same people. No court gossip, or knights, or even Gwen to help her through her day, but slowly, Morgana was learning to adjust to, and even love, her new life.

She sat up and stretched, worn out from her efforts to clean the little hut she had rented. Who knew scrubbing floors was such hard work? Gwen had made it seem effortless.

“Mordred?” She called out, standing and moving towards the open doorway, “Where have you gone?”

There was a rustle in the bushes, a sharp cry of “Ouch!” and the young druid boy’s head popped up from among the trees. “Here, ‘Gana!”

“Come on, it’s time to go. Go get your basket.” She went back into the house to retrieve her purse from under the mattress, and then waited for him to retrieve his collection of herbs. Then they were on their way, along the narrow muddy track that led to the nearest town. It was a long walk, over an hour, but Morgana was beginning to get used to walking the great distance. At first, all they’d traded with were the remains of Morgana’s fine clothing and a few jewels, but now it was Mordred’s skill at finding valuable herbs that helped them survive. Even if Morgana had had any useful talent, she soon realised that the assumptions made about her connection to Mordred opposed this. With this in the way, it was a miracle that Morgana ever managed hear any gossip, but by eavesdropping on a few conversations, some pieces of news came her way. Sometimes, it felt like these had been delivered to her by some supreme being, telling her about Uther’s latest rampage on magic just when she most missed Camelot. Other days, though, it seemed plain absurd. Once, she’d heard that Arthur had eloped with a foreign princess, but she'd dismissed it immediately. The news about Merlin also came her way, but this was so distorted, it was hard to make any sense of it.

They returned to their hut late that day, though with heavier baskets than usual, thanks to Morgana’s mostly successful attempts at bartering. A little way from their home, Mordred suddenly stopped on his tracks, dropping the basket, and then took off running down the track without a word to Morgana.

“Mordred? Mordred!” She called after him, picking up his basket.

Just as the dim outline of the hut appeared in her sightline, Mordred burst out again, dragging a figure along behind him.

“’Gana! ‘Gana!” He shouted, “Look! He came to find us after all!”

Even with this, it wasn’t until the stranger said “Hello, Morgana,” that she understood.

“Merlin?” Morgana asked, stunned. “How…? I…” She paused and took a deep breath. “Would you like to come in?”

Walking closer to her, he smiled in greeting. "Only if that’s not any trouble.”

“No, of course not! Mordred, would you come and take this basket already?”

A few moments later, the three of them were sat around the small fire, Mordred chattering away into the silence between Merlin and Morgana.

“-And we’ve been keeping a look out for the other druids ever since! We would have looked for them properly, straight away, but Morgana couldn’t walk far, and I didn’t know where to look.”

“I might be able to help you there, if you’d like.” Merlin asked, though he sounded uncertain.

Morgana and Mordred exchanged glances. “You would? I mean, you know how?” She exclaimed.

Merlin nodded, and a guilty look crossed his face. “I… How much news has gotten to you, this far out?”

“Do you mean what happened in Camelot?” Mordred asked bluntly, and Morgana winced.

“He means, yes we do!” She added hurriedly, “We know about the magic. I mean- _I_ know about the magic. I… I didn’t actually believe it at first, but Mordred told me what he knew, and then the more I thought about it, the more sense it made.”

Merlin, who had gone still when Mordred had spoken, now relaxed a little. “Right. I know where to find most of those druids I helped. It might be that one of them could help me find the others.”

“That would be amazing, as long as it’s not any trouble. I’m sure you have your own problems to deal with. You won’t want any trouble about ours-“

“-Don’t.” Merlin interrupted harshly, and then, becoming rather flustered, said, “I mean, it wouldn’t be a problem. Really.”

“Oh.” Morgana smiled, “Well then.” There was a pause. “You’ve heard all about us. What about you? Where have you been?” She instantly regretted speaking as Merlin stilled again, turning pale.

There was a long silence, and Morgana was about to attempt a different subject when Merlin said quietly, “Nowhere good.”

Searching for a response to make to that, Morgana turned her head to look out the window, and was startled to see how dark it had grown.

“Mordred, it’s late. You should be in bed.”

He made his usual whines and complaints, but eventually did as he was told. A strange noise from behind made Morgana turn back towards Merlin again, only to find him stifling laughter.

At her look, he finally burst out laughing, and then calmed himself for long enough to explain. “I’m sorry, it’s just… it’s strange to see you so… I mean… You’re not the same woman I knew in Camelot, are you, Morgana?”

She gave a small laugh at this herself. “No, I guess not. How could I be after everything that happened? But then, you're hardly the same manservant I knew then, are you?"

Merlin seemed to be thinking about this, but when he spoke again, it was to ask “Do you miss it?”

She looked up, startled. “I don’t know. I try not to think about it too much. I've made my choice, staying with Mordred, so it’s not worth thinking about.”

“What if you could go back one day?”

“If I could take Mordred, then… yes. I loved Camelot. I loved my life, and my friends, and, to a certain extent, my family. It’s not the same here. But it’s useless talking about this. I can’t go back with Mordred, and I won’t leave him behind.”

Maybe it was only a trick of the light, but for a moment, Morgana saw an odd look in Merlin’s eyes, as if she’d given him the wrong answer. Then he nodded, and the moment had passed.

“I’ve stayed too long – I’m keeping you up.” He said after another pause, standing up.

Morgana jumped to her feet too. “You’re going to leave, just like that? At least stay the night, Merlin.”

“I don’t think that’s-“

“Don’t! Don’t you tell me that it’s a bad idea for you to stay, that you’ve got some absurd reason keeping you from staying even one night.” She hissed furiously, careful not to disturb Mordred too much. “You’re the first familiar face I’ve seen in _months_ , and if you leave now, you’ll find a reason never to come back again, now that you’ve satisfied yourself that we aren’t about to starve!”

Merlin looked startled. “You won’t be alone, Morgana. I said I’d find the druids for you, and I will.”

“That isn’t the same thing, and you know it. All I’m asking is for you to stay one night, Merlin. Please.”

There was a long silence, but the glares exchanged between Morgana and Merlin said enough.

Eventually, Merlin sighed, giving in. “…Fine. If you insist. But I’m leaving in the morning.”

“That’s good enough for me.” Morgana smiled, satisfied with her victory. “Now, come on, I’ll make you up a bed.”

\---

The next morning, Morgana rose with the sun and began her morning routine. Careful not to wake Merlin, curled up next to the embers of the fire, she quietly shook Mordred awake and went to fetch some water from the nearest well. While she was gone, Mordred got their food ready and prepared for another collecting expedition in the woods. He stopped to wrap his arms around Morgana in a tight hug when she returned, and then dashed off into the woods. She watched him go with a faint smile, and then turned to face her daily chores.

The first thing to tackle was the washing. With luck, maybe this time she wouldn’t ruin Mordred’s shirts quite as badly as she had before. Back in Camelot, she hadn’t even known it was possible to mess up washing clothing that badly. She lugged her basket of clothes out to the river behind the house, and set to scrubbing the worst of the stains out of them.

She was barely midway through the pile when she heard the footsteps behind her.

“I was half-worried you were just going to disappear without a word when you saw us both gone.” She joked, turning around to face Merlin.

He shifted uncomfortably. “I was going to. But you were right. I owe you more than that.”

“Oh, good,” Morgana teased. “You can help me with these then.”

“Actually, I can.” Merlin replied in a far more serious tone. He gestured over the dress Morgana held with his hand, saying “ _Fordwin wamm_ ,” and the grass-stains vanished.

Morgana stared at him, speechless, and her expression must have been hilarious, because Merlin suddenly snorted with laughter. With a much warmer smile, he came over to kneel next to her, passing her another shirt. “Here, you try. Fordwin wamm. Say it.”

“Fordwen- No, wait. Fordwin wa- wamm. _Fordwin wamm_.”

“That’s it! You wouldn’t believe how useful that kind of spell used to be in-“ Merlin trailed off, going still and cold again.

Tentatively, Morgana reached out. “Could you teach me more? Aside from accidently setting things on fire, I don’t really know what to do.”

“If that’s what you want, I’m happy to teach you some spells before I go.” Merlin nodded. “I know a few more words that could help you with these.”

With his aid, the task was done far more quickly and successfully than Morgana had ever managed it before. By lunch, her chores were done, and they felt justified in taking a break. They wandered out into the woods in search of Mordred, bringing their lunch with them. Merlin was quiet – far quieter than Morgana could ever remember him being in Camelot. This wasn’t just the silence of a good servant, this was a stillness of someone who was afraid of what they could say. Whatever it was that had happened there – and the stories were so vague and differing that it was hard to discover the truth – it had changed Merlin from the boy she’d known before.

“Just ask.” He said suddenly, and she flushed red, furious with herself at being caught.

With a shake of her head, she pulled herself together and looked him in the eye. “What happened to you?”

Merlin nodded, unsurprised, and changed direction, leading her towards a nearby fallen log. “I think I’d like to sit down for this.”

He waited for them both to be settled before beginning.

“After I got those people away from Camelot, it was chaos for weeks. Some of these people had family and friends, but others had nothing at all. There were a few with magic, or magical connections, but so many of them were just ordinary people, Morgana. They’d never done anything wrong in their lives, and Uther would have had them executed for it. And then there were the ones who had family still in Camelot, and needed my help getting them out safely. Finding places for all of those people to go, making sure they weren’t about to starve in the streets or freeze to death… It was over a month before they were all safe and settled, and only then could I think about what I was going to do.

“I-I was going to head home. Not for long, just to see my mother, and work out what was going to happen next. I hadn’t thought much about her before. I thought- I thought she’d be safe. Ealdor isn’t even in Camelot, after all! But by the time I got there, it- it was already too late… He murdered my mother, and the entire village with her, Morgana! She’s dead! They’re all dead! All because of me!”

Morgana reached out to grip his hand. There was nothing she could say, nothing she could do to comfort him except listen and watch as he broke down crying.

“I… I think I may have gone a little bit mad after that. I starting going after knights, soldiers, anyone who was involved in the slaughter, and getting revenge on them. It must have taken a dozen or more before I realised how pointless it was. Uther was the one who was responsible for it, and no matter how it felt getting to him through his, it would never really achieve anything.

“Since then I’ve been trying a different strategy, travelling across different kingdoms, making connections and allies. Telling people about Uther and getting their support. It might not be as quick or as satisfying as killing his men, but it’s going to take him down far more effectively, and take down everything he believes in with it.”

Towards the end, Merlin had begun to speak with more passion than guilt, but Morgana, still struggling to process this new side of Merlin, couldn’t follow his words.

Still gripping his hand, she tried to get her head around what he was telling herself. “Are you saying…? No! You’re going to overthrow _Uther_?”

He nodded, unconcerned. “If that’s what it takes. I can’t let this go on any longer, Morgana. He must be stopped.”

A thought occurred to Morgana, and she spoke quickly, before she could change her mind about it. “Well, then. I’m going to help.”

This was all it took to worry Merlin. “No, you can’t!”

“Why not?” She retorted. “Because I’m a woman? Really, Merlin, I thought you were better than that.”

“No, it’s not that!” He protested. “I just…” He stopped himself, taking a deep breath before he continued talking. “I… I wasn’t planning on finding you and Mordred again at first. In case I put you in more danger than I had already. I knew you were somewhere around here, that you were safe and settled, and I knew I should just leave you alone, but I couldn’t. I had to be sure that you were happy, that I hadn’t ruined your life too. But the last thing I wanted was for you to get mixed up in this. You can’t turn back, if you do this.”

“Do you think I don’t know that, Merlin? I don’t need your protection, and the last thing I want is to be left behind again, with no idea whether you’re dead or alive. You know that I’m more than capable of looking after myself, and I can certainly make myself useful – even more so if I learnt more magic. No, Merlin, I won’t let you keep me out of this.”

By the end of her outburst, Merlin looked almost resigned, like he’d hoped to be able to avoid this situation, but really, he’d never actually expected to.

After a long pause, he lifted his head to meet her eyes. “Fine. I’ll think about whether or not you would be able to help, and until then, I guess there’s no harm in teaching you a few more spells.”

Morgana smirked in response. “I knew you couldn’t resist my charms. Now, I think we’d better go find Mordred.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is mainly to say that I'm sorry this chapter took so long. I wasn't expecting my school and home life to interfere as much as it had over the past few months. I wish I could promise that the next chapter will be up sooner as well, but knowing me, it could be weeks before it exists. So, please be patient, because it will exist and be uploaded eventually - that much I can promise.


	3. Chapter 3

For three days, Merlin taught Morgana how to fight and protect herself with magic, as well as other useful little spells. They’d spend their mornings doing household work, and the afternoons training. Then, on the evening of the third day, Merlin told Morgana that he had to leave.

“I need to carry on with my work.” He explained. “I can’t do that from here.”

“So you’re just going to disappear again?”

“No! Of course not! I’ll come back as often as I can, I promise.” He fidgeted with the shirt he was putting away, before setting it down beside his bag and turning to face Morgana. “…I’ve been thinking about how you can help.”

She met his eyes eagerly. “And?”

Merlin looked uncomfortable. “And I’ve decided I can’t uproot you and Mordred. Not when you’re making a life here.”

“That’s it?” Morgana started to turn away, but Merlin caught her wrist.

“Wait, listen. There are people who report back to me. Rumours, uprisings, every decision Uther makes in Camelot. They tell me anything that might be of use to us, and a few things that probably aren’t, but with me moving about so much, it’s hard to be able to meet up with them often enough. If… If you stayed here, these people could come to you instead. You could pass on the reports to me when I next see you, or even deal with it yourself and tell them what to do next. You could help us become much more effective against Uther.”

Morgana was unconvinced. “Anybody could do this. It’s hardly significant.”

“No, I need somebody I know I can trust.”

“And you can’t trust any of these people coming to you?” She shook her wrist free of him, but didn’t move away again.

Merlin ran a hand through his hair. “A few of them, yes, but not them all. And they’re more useful to me where they are.”

“And what can _they_ do that _I_ can’t?”

“They can be anonymous! All it will take is one person recognising you, Morgana, for it all to fall down around you. They’d take you away from Mordred, and this would all be over. I know what you’re capable of, believe me, Morgana, but if you can’t be a perfect stranger to everyone you meet, then it’s not a job you can do.”

She was shocked into silence for a few moments, and he must have seen something in her expression, because Merlin suddenly took on a gentler tone. “You told me before that staying with Mordred was the most important thing to you. This is the best way to keep him safe and with you, without keeping you out of this entirely.”

Slowly, Morgana nodded. “Fine. I’ll do it for now, but that’s not the end of this. I won’t be side-lined, Merlin.”

This seemed to be enough for Merlin, who turned back around and continued his packing. He left the next morning without another word being said about it between them.

\---

A week passed before they saw any more new faces. Morgana and Mordred came home from their walk into town to find a man sitting on their doorstep. He was taller than Morgana, with short brown hair and a vaguely familiar face.

Standing up, he said, “I’m sorry to intrude, but Merlin sent me a message telling me to…” He trailed off as they came closer into his view, staring at her open mouthed. “L-Lady Morgana?”

“Have we met?” She asked curiously, before remembering herself. “No, I’m sorry, Merlin sent you, didn’t he? Go on in. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

The man nodded dumbly and opened the door, leaving it ajar for them. Morgana knelt down beside Mordred, taking his basket from him.

“This won’t take long.” She promised. “Would you mind going into the woods for a little bit, until I come and get you?”

He nodded, but didn’t move. “This isn’t dangerous, is it, ‘Gana?”

“No, of course not!” She smiled reassuringly. “He’s a friend of Merlin’s. I just want to be cautious, that’s all.”

“I’ll go over to the waterfall then.” He hugged her quickly and ran off without looking back, leaving her to enter the hut alone.

“Here, let me.” The man said, taking the baskets from her, and setting them on the table, and she took the opportunity to look at him more closely.

“I _do_ know you!” She declared after a moment. “How?”

“I was in Camelot for a short time about a year or so ago. I’d had ideas about becoming a knight, and Merlin tried to help me, but it didn’t work out. I think we caused a bit of a scandal actually.”

The story seemed vaguely familiar, but it didn’t click for Morgana until she realised that he reminded her of something about Gwen. “Of course! You’re Lancelot, aren’t you?”

Lancelot blinked in surprise. “You… you remember me?”

She smiled in response. “You made quite an impression on Gwen, you know.”

“Oh. Well, thank you…” He replied, flustered.

“But how did you get involved in all of this? Did Merlin go looking for you?”

“Oh, no. We found each other by accident. Actually, he rather saved my life.”

Morgana gestured him towards a seat, taking the one opposite him. “Tell me.”

“There’s not much to it really. Ever since I left Camelot, I’d been earning my way through swordfights. One group got it into their head to try and ambush me after a fight didn’t quite go in their friend’s favour. There was more than I could have really coped with alone, but Merlin appeared from the other direction and came to my aid. Then he told me about his plan, and I offered to help.”

“Why?”

The question seemed to confuse Lancelot. “He’s my friend, and he needs my help. How could I walk away from that?”

She gave him a pleased smile. “Good. But I’m afraid I’ve diverted you. You had a report for me?”

He pulled a map from his bag, and spread it across the table between them. “There have been a few rebellions against Camelot soldiers in these villages to the east. None of them successful unfortunately, but Uther’s men suffered fairly heavy losses.”

“What sparked the rebellions?” Morgana asked, intrigued.

“They were trying to find a child who was said to have prophetic dreams. Nobody seems sure if they actually found her, but they killed several other children in their search.”

She took in a sharp breath. Murdering a defenceless child for an ability they couldn’t control? An ability she understood only too well? Did Uther have no limits?

“I know.” Lancelot nodded, taking in her expression. “And there’s more. I’ve been hearing rumours that Uther’s sent for the Witchfinder.”

“Who is he trying to find?”

“I don’t know – This might not even be true, after all – but if I were to make a guess, I would say he was going after Merlin.”

Morgana thought for a moment, and then nodded. There was nothing she could do about this, except pass it on to Merlin. “Thank you,” she told Lancelot, rolling up his map and returning it to him. "It looks like there’s a storm coming in. You’re welcome to stay the night, if you’d like.”

“No, I should get moving. I wouldn’t want to be any trouble.” He slipped the map into his bag and swung it over his shoulder, but before he could do anything else, the door suddenly burst open. A blonde woman stood in the pouring rain, supporting the weight of an injured man. Lancelot rushed forward to help her, and together they brought the man into the hut.

When the woman had caught her breath, she said, “My name is Morgause. This man, he works with Merlin. He said we could come here for help.”

“Of course. Put him down over there.” She gestured towards her bed. “Lancelot, would you go get Mordred? Follow the river behind the house towards the waterfall, he should be over there.”

“Do you have any medicines? And I need some water.” The woman, Morgause, said hurriedly.

“Here.” Morgana passed her the bag of herbs Mordred set by, along with a cup of water. “Anything else?”

“No, just leave me to it.” She picked through the bag, pulling out a few herbs and twisting them together into a bundle. She dropped these into a cup, and Morgana watched in fascination as she began to chant over it, her eyes glowing gold. Morgause stirred the mixture with her finger and helped the man to drink it, before turning her attention to his wound. Pulling away the makeshift bandage, she placed her hands over the blood and began to chant again.

When she was done, she asked Morgana to pass her a damp cloth, in a far more fatigued tone than she’d used before. The blood was wiped away from the wound, leaving an ugly scar, but nothing more.

“That’s incredible!” Morgana exclaimed, and Morgause gave her a pleased smile.

“He should recover fine, though he needs rest. Can he stay here a few days?”

“Of course. And… can I get you anything? You look exhausted.”

“Some food would be most appreciated. And wine, if you have any.”

“Only a little, I’m afraid.” Morgana replied, fetching it for her.

For a few moments, the room seemed almost peaceful again, as Morgause rested and ate, but then Mordred burst back in, sopping wet, with Lancelot not far behind.

“What’s happened?” he demanded, running straight to Morgana.

“No, nothing’s happened,” was her soothing response. “These people are going to be staying with us for a bit. Now, do you remember the spell to dry out your clothes, or do you want me to do it?”

Mordred shook his head. “I remember.”

“I’d ask you to do the same for me, but I should probably set off again, before it gets too dark.” Lancelot spoke up from the doorway.

“Are you sure? Like I said before, you’re welcome to stay.”

He smiled at that. “I’m not sure you have the room anymore. Until the next time!” He bowed, and before Morgana could say any more, he was gone.

Turning back towards the rest of the room, she realised Morgause was watching Mordred, who was using a few newly learnt spells to unpack the forgotten baskets of food.

“Your son seems very skilled for his age.” She remarked to Morgana, who rushed to correct her.

“Oh, no, Mordred isn’t my son! I do love him like my own child, but he isn’t really mine.”

“Oh?” Morgause quirked an eyebrow. “Whose is he then?”

Morgana looked back over at Mordred, who was trying to pretend he wasn’t listening. “Officially, no one’s. Uther took away his birth family, and then his druid family. As far as we know, I’m the only one left to look after him.”

Morgause opened her mouth as if to respond, when a groan from Morgana’s bed drew their attention to the injured man, who was just waking. As Morgana made her way over to sit on the edge of the bed, his eyes began to open, looking disorientated for a moment, and then startled when he recalled his last memories.

“It’s alright, you’re safe now.” She soothed. “This is the place Merlin sent you to. You’re safe here. You were badly injured, so you need to rest for a-“ He immediately tried to sit up, falling back with a wince. It took him three attempts to manage it, and then his eyes properly focused on her face.

“Well, hello there.” He gave her an attempt at a dazzling smile. “The name’s Gwaine.”

She looked at him in amusement. “Morgana, and this is Mordred.” She beckoned him over towards them.

“Ah, a child.” His face fell. “You wouldn’t happen to be married, would you?”

“I don’t think that’s relevant. What happened to you?”

His face lit up again with the flirtatious smile. “Well, if you’re sure…”

“ _Yes_.”

“… I was coming to make my report when I was attacked in the woods. With Morgause’s help I fought them off, but one of them must have crept up behind me – Where is Morgause, by the way?”

“Over there. She fell asleep.” Mordred gestured behind him.

“She was the one who healed you.” Morgana added. “Who is she?”

“Not entirely sure.” Gwaine gave a shrug, immediately followed by a wince. “She’s looking for Merlin, and I said I could help.”

Morgana frowned. “Can she be trusted then?”

“I saw her use magic when we were fighting the bandits – I can’t see someone like her working for Uther.”

She nodded in acceptance of this, but wasn’t entirely convinced. “You should probably eat something. Mordred, would you fetch some food and drink for Gwaine?”

\---

The next few hours passed without event. Morgana spoke some more with Gwaine, learning more about him and his connections with Merlin, before letting him get some more rest. Then Mordred went to sleep and all was quiet. She sat by the open door, letting moonlight flood the room, and waited, though she wasn’t sure what for. A chair creaked behind her and she turned to meet Morgause’s eyes

“Gwaine woke up a little while ago.” She said softly. “He seemed fine, and very grateful to you.”

Morgause nodded, but didn’t seem inclined to speak, so Morgana continued. “There’s a bed set up for you on the floor, not that you’ll want to use it just yet.”

“I’ve rested enough. You should use it.”

She shook her head. “I don’t need to sleep just yet.”

Morgause frowned. “Forgive me, but you look exhausted… I’m afraid I don’t know your name.”

“Morgana.”

The other woman looked up sharply, staring at her with an odd light in her eyes. “Morgana… of Camelot? Gorlois’s daughter?”

Morgana met her eyes warily. “…Yes.”

She found her hands suddenly grasped by Morgause, who had leapt forward. “But you’re the reason I’ve been searching for Merlin. I was trying to find _you_ , Morgana. …Sister.”

“Sister?” Morgana pulled her hands free. “I don’t have any sisters.”

“They told Uther I was dead, to protect me from his Purge. I was only a young child, but our mother had already begun teaching me magic.”

“I… I can’t…” Her head was spinning. It was mad. Totally absurd. How could Uther have kept a sibling secret from her, dead or not? But, then… There was something about Morgause that just seemed so familiar, and so _right_. “A sister. I have a _sister_. I…” She reached forward to take hold of Morgause’s hands. “I think we need to talk.”

After that, any notions of sleep were quickly forgotten. They spent the whole night talking softly to one another. Telling stories about their lives, their families, everything that had been missed while they had been separated. And when dawn came, Morgana hardly noticed Morgause guiding her towards the bed and pulling a blanket over her, because her eyes were already drifting shut.

She slept through the others waking, through breakfast and chores, and just as she was beginning to wake, her dreams shifted into the first vision she’d had since she left Camelot. She saw an old keep, run down but still habitable, in the depths of a dense forest. Mordred was there, playing at swords with Lancelot, along with many other people, some vaguely familiar and some total strangers. And when she turned her head, she saw Merlin stood beside her, smiling, his fingers intertwined with hers.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, firstly, this chapter came out so long, that I've adjusted the plan slightly to make one chapter into two. This does mean not quite as much happens in this chapter as there was meant to be, but hopefully it's still exciting enough.
> 
> Disclaimer - I know bugger all about swordfighting. I know slightly more about medieval architecture, but not by much.
> 
> Finally, as sporadic as the past few chapters have been, it's only going to get worse from hereon out, now that school's starting up again. Sorry about that.

After that, things only grew. Merlin came by on the day Morgause and Gwaine had intended to leave. He heard her story and gave her a role within the network, and that was that. It was an important role, but it would be difficult for her to come back and see Morgana as often as she’d like, so she left her with a parting gift – a mirror she’d enchanted to allow easy communication between them.

Despite their absence, Morgana and Mordred’s home was never empty for long after that. Merlin couldn’t seem to stay away for more than a few weeks, and he always stayed for at least a few days, Lancelot returned often, Gwaine too, and more people besides. Some stayed for no more than an hour, others for a few days, and Morgana and Mordred soon became accustomed to the new erratic lifestyle they had formed.

It may have not been what she’d wanted, but Morgana got used to her own role, and even began to enjoy it. There was one problem though, and that was Merlin. At first, she thought it was only coincidental that Merlin never visited when one of his people was in the house. And if, by some accident, someone happened to arrive while he was there, he practically ignored Morgana, receiving the reports quietly and then disappearing off into the woods until the visitor was gone.

But as this began to go on for several months, Morgana felt that she couldn’t stand it anymore. She made her excuses to the young woman and ran off in the direction Merlin had gone.

The warm smile he gave her in greeting only made her more confused, and it took her a few moments to order her thoughts into something coherent when she found him by the waterfall, and then she burst out “Are you ashamed of me, Merlin?”

He looked startled. “Of course not. Why would I be?”

“Then how do you explain all this…” she gestured vaguely, “going on. What else am I supposed to think?”

“Oh,” was Merlin’s quiet response, “I didn’t really think about what you’d make of all this.”

“All _what_?”

“My attempts to protect you?” He gave her a sheepish smile.

“ _What?_ ”

“These people are _spies_ , Morgana. I can never be sure that they’re actually working for me. If the wrong people knew how much you meant to me…”

“Oh.” She sat down next to him, following his gaze into the water. “How much I meant to you?”

“…Yeah.”

“Oh.” There was a long silence between them, though the looks they exchanged were not awkward in the slightest. “I’m not some damsel who needs protecting, Merlin.”

“I know, I know. I can’t help it.” He gave a hollow laugh. “I guess I’m just too used to having to protect someone.”

“You are right in one sense though…” Morgana continued thoughtfully, choosing to ignore the slight lapse in his mood. “I’ve been starting to think that staying here isn’t my safest option anymore – Wait, no, let me finish – With all these people coming and going, we’re drawing attention. The villages are already suspicious. And I think it would be wise to move somewhere more defensible soon in any case.”

Morgana watched as Merlin set aside his own concerns for the moment, focusing on the problem at hand. “We’d need somewhere we could see Uther coming. And hard for him to get an army to, but still in a convenient location for us.”

“Does a place like that even exist?”

Merlin met her eyes and suddenly grinned. “Yes. Yes, it does, and I know just where to find it.”

\---

The next day, Merlin disappeared to inspect the place he’d described to Morgana. She’d wanted to go with him, but it was far too far away for her to be comfortable leaving Mordred on his own, and they just didn’t have the mean for all three of them to go there just yet. When Merlin returned, he pronounced the place fit for use, and they began making preparations for the move. And barely a few weeks later, Morgana found herself riding through a dense forest, several days away from her old home, with Mordred clinging on behind her.

“Morgana! Mordred!” Merlin called out, a little way ahead of them. “See those stone towers?”

She followed his gesture. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.” He confirmed with a grin.

She smiled back. “How do you feel about going a little faster, Mordred?”

He didn’t respond, except to tighten his grip on her, which she took as an agreement. She kicked their horse into a quick trot, passing Merlin before he could beat her through the open gates

The outer walls of the abandoned castle were crumbling, but still mostly functional, as far as she could tell. At a glance, the gatehouse was in almost perfect condition, accounting for time, and there was already a sentry posted on it, who’d called out as they’d approached. Continuing on through the inner gates, Morgana brought her horse to a stop in the courtyard, where Lancelot was waiting.

“Welcome to Fort Alfen.” He greeted her, taking hold of her reins.

“I see you’ve been busy making things ready.” She replied as she dismounted and turned to help Mordred down.

“You wouldn’t believe how much worse it was before we started. The sorcerers and sorceresses here have been a great help.”

“That isn’t Percival over there, is it?” Merlin joined them, jumping down from his own horse. “Won’t he injure himself if he keeps doing that?”

Morgana followed his gaze, to see a huge man with rather excellent muscles singlehandedly lifting chunks of rubble onto a waiting cart. As she watched, the man, Percival, spotted another pair struggling to move their own cart and went over to help. The pair moved out the way, leaving Percival to pull it alone, but this didn’t seem to be any great difficulty to him.

“You know, I think he actually rather enjoys it.” Lancelot replied. “He like using his strength for more than just fighting sometimes… But what are we doing, talking about him, when you two haven’t even seen the fort yet! Morgana, Mordred, allow me to give you a tour. Oh, and Merlin? Finna’s here. She said she’d wait for you in the Western tower. It sounded important.”

Merlin nodded and disappeared towards one of the towers, leaving Morgana and Mordred behind in confusion.

“Let’s start over here, shall we?” Lancelot continued, leading them back towards the gates.

\---

Overall, the majority of the place was still standing, and the parts that weren’t could be made usable given enough time. Almost the entire eastern side was in various states of disrepair, and Morgana agreed with Lancelot’s suggestion that it could be left as it was for now. The western guardroom, on the other hand, would need rebuilding, and most of the floorboards on the first floor needed replacing. The second floor too, probably – after one step from Lancelot, a chunk of the floorboard fell through, and they’d hastily agreed that they didn’t need to look any farther on that floor.

Fortunately, however, a decent chunk of the southern side, where the halls, kitchens and many of the bedrooms were, was not only weatherproof, but also in a good condition, with the exception of a few walls.

The tour complete, they made their way back to the courtyard, where a group of men were practicing their sword work. Mordred watched them eagerly for a few moments, before turning his gaze on Morgana.

“Hmm…” She made a show of contemplating for a few moments, before turning to Lancelot. “Would you fetch two practice swords?”

He nodded and disappeared. While she waited, Morgana took off her cloak, laying it over a wall, and picked up an abandoned leather thong to tie back her hair with. Lancelot soon returned with the wooden practice swords, and Morgana passed one to Mordred before heading for an open space.

“First lesson – How to hold the sword,” she began. “Place your thumb, yes, like that. Now, don’t grip it so tight. The sword is an extension of your arm, as the Camelot sword master liked to say. Often. Yes, that’s it. Now you want to start off like this, with your left leg in front…”

Morgana wasn’t sure how much time had passed before she noticed their audience. Lancelot had been watching the whole time, of course, but now the other group seemed to have stopped drilling, and instead a fair few of them seemed to be milling about in the courtyard for no apparent reason. At some point Merlin had joined Lancelot, and Gwaine too, it seemed.

Seeing them stop, the three of them made their way over to Morgana and Mordred.

“Good work for a beginner, kid.” Gwaine said to Mordred approvingly.

“He’s got a good teacher.” Merlin commented with a smile.

Gwaine nodded, turning to address Morgana. “Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

She exchanged a look with Merlin. “…Camelot.”

“You must’ve put up a hell of a fight for them to agree to teach you there.” Gwaine laughed.

“Still, I’m sure she’s no match for you, right, Gwaine?” Lancelot teased, nudging his shoulder.

Gwaine puffed out his chest. “It’ll take more than some knightly training to beat the likes of me!”

“Oh, is that so?” Morgana raised an eyebrow.

“…Well, I wouldn’t like to fight a lady. Hardly a fair fight, is it?” he backtracked.

“Too right.” She heard Merlin mutter, and her smirk grew.

“Lancelot, your sword.” She held out her hand expectantly, dropping the wooden practice sword onto the floor. The moment it was in her hand, she adjusted her grip and got into her stance. Gwaine’s whole body language changed into something far more serious than she’d seen from him before as he drew his own sword.

They circled each other for a few moments before she swung towards his head, testing his defence. He blocked her, and she pulled away quickly, settling into a more defensive pose as he followed up with an attack of his own. They continued to exchange blows and parries for who knows how long as the fight dragged on, with neither succeeding in gaining the upper hand over the other.

A swift glance showed her that the other three had retreated into a safer place, where Merlin seemed to be explaining to Mordred what it was that he was seeing. Lancelot, on the other hand, seemed to be watching avidly every time she looked up, though sometimes he was talking to Mordred too. He was probably making sure she wasn’t about to damage his sword, Morgana realised, feeling somewhat guilty.

Gwaine followed her gaze as they continued exchanging blows. “For all that he’s not your son, you sure do act like he is.” He commented nonchalantly.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She swung low, aiming for his exposed waist.

He only raised an eyebrow, knocking her blow aside.

“I’ve never had children. And I never really knew my mother.” Morgana found herself explaining. “Is this what being a mother is like?”

“I can’t say I’m much of an expert, but that’s what I would call it.”

Morgana didn’t reply to that, but she found she wasn’t overly opposed to the idea.

“Course, that would make Merlin the father then, right?”

She stumbled, and with a flick of his wrist, Gwaine sent her sword flying across the courtyard. Lancelot, some part of her noted, gave an exasperated sigh and set off to retrieve it.

The rest of her, however, was staring at Gwaine open mouthed.

“I… What-“

“Don’t know about anyone else, but it’s plain enough to me, Morgana. Merlin cares about you, and he cares about Mordred, the same way you care about them both. If you both stopped dancing around each other, you’d have realised that.”

Did he think she didn’t know? That they were two lovesick teenagers, hopelessly pining after the other? Well, she would certainly-

She would let him go on thinking that. It wasn’t any of his business, and their problems were their own to deal with, not anybody else’s.

“You cheat! You did that on purpose so you could win!” She declared.

Gwaine shrugged. “Never promised to play by the rules, sweetheart.”

Morgana narrowed her eyes at him. “Until the next time then.” And with a scowl, she stalked off to join Mordred and Merlin, wondering when Arthur’s honourable fighting techniques had suddenly become so endearing to her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Sorry this isn't my best writing, but I wanted to get on and get this chapter out there. We're back to Merlin POV, since I realised what with all the changes in my original plan, I've accidentally written a few too many in Morgana's POV. If he seems a bit OOC, remember that this isn't the same happy go-lucky kid in Camelot. He's been through a fair amount of shit since then and it's changed him. Also I'm sorry the characters got away from me a bit at the beginning. It was meant to be a fluffy scene but they disagreed with me.

If Merlin was surprised at how eagerly Morgana threw herself into her growing role in the network, he should really have known better. Or, at least, that was what he told himself.

After all, by moving her somewhere safer, he’d simultaneously given her more responsibility and more people to keep an eye on Mordred, the only thing holding her back.

Perhaps she was almost as busy as he was now, and that gave them less time together, but he certainly wasn’t jealous of the others at the fort, not like Gwaine seemed to think.

Anyway, what was there to be jealous of? Things weren’t like that between him and Morgana. Maybe they could have been once, but not now. Morgana was his friend, nothing more. She-

“Merlin!”

He sheepishly turned away from the window where he’d been watching Morgana’s training session in the courtyard.

“Sorry, Lance. I was thinking. What were you saying?”

Lancelot gave a long-suffering sigh. “Elyan finally got a message through. Things have gone south in Camelot, and he thinks they’re onto him.”

Despite this bad news, Merlin found a reason to smile in relief. “He’s alive though, and free for the moment. That’s something. So… what? He’s getting out?”

“No, the situation there must be pretty bad – He’s insisting that we send someone to get him out, and someone else with him too. …Actually, he’s insisting we send _you_.”

“Huh.” Merlin frowned. “Do you think it’s a trap?”

Lancelot nodded. “Almost certainly. Which means Uther’s turned him.”

“No, not necessarily. If there’s someone else who needs help, Uther could be using them to get to him. It wouldn’t be unlike him.”

Lancelot narrowed his eyes at Merlin. “I know that look. You’re going to go, aren’t you?”

Merlin threw up his hands. “If he’s in trouble, I can’t just leave him! Look at what we’ve managed because of the information he’s gotten to us.”

“Okay, so we send _someone_. It doesn’t have to be _you_.”

“There’s no one else I trust who knows Camelot well enough! Except…” He glanced out the window again, and Lancelot followed his gaze.

“You know, she’s going to want a more active role eventually. Morgana’s not the kind of person you can keep in the background forever, not if you value your way of living.”

“Are you saying she should go to Camelot?” Merlin snapped. “That’s a worse plan than _me_ going.”

“No, of course not! I’m just saying you should keep it in mind, that’s all.”

Merlin didn’t reply. He knew all of this, of course. He’d just been trying really, really hard not to think too much about it. And it wasn’t really relevant, was it? They were _supposed_ to be talking about Elyan.

“I’ll leave tonight.” He continued, as if they hadn’t changed the subject at all.

“Will it change anything if I keep trying to talk you out of it?” Lancelot asked with resignation.

“Nope.”

“Then, good luck. And it looks like Morgana’s finished training.”

Merlin tried, unsuccessfully, to look confused. “So?”

Lancelot gave him a flat stare, and he threw up his hands defensively. “Fine, fine. I’m going!”

Morgana was still packing up when he reached the courtyard, fortunately. She heard him coming, and gave him an enthusiastic smile.

“Merlin! I was wondering where you’d gotten to. Are you busy?”

“Nope!” He smirked back at her. “But that could change any second now, so quick, let’s go somewhere no one can find us.” His words came out rather quickly and jumbled, but Morgana must have understood the sentiment at least, because she nodded and started walking towards the outer gate.

There was a long silence at first, while he tried to find the words to broach the subject, and then they both spoke simultaneously.

“Merlin, I wanted to-“

“Morgana, I need to-“

They both stopped abruptly, and Merlin noticed that Morgana looked rather flustered.

“Sorry, go on-

“No, no. You should-“

“No, really it’s not-“

“I-“

Merlin stopped and took a deep breath. “I need to go to Camelot for- I don’t know. It could be anything from a few hours to a few days.”

“I- _Camelot_? _Why_?”

“There’s someone who needs help, and he wants me to come, not anyone else.”

She looked furious. This was worse than Lancelot – At least _he’d_ been somewhat expecting Merlin’s reaction.

“What, and you’re just going to go? Are you really that stupid?”

“I can handle a couple of Camelot guards, Morgana. It’s not going to be _that_ dangerous.”

“Being able to creep around when nobody was paying attention to you anyway is not the same thing, Merlin!”

“What am I supposed to do, then? I can’t just abandon him after everything he’s done! I thought this was something you’d understand!”

“ _Understand_? This is stupid, reckless… _Anybody_ could go! Why does it have to be you?”

“Oh, and I suppose you’ve never done anything reckless in your life before, have you?” Merlin was breathless with fury, though he wasn’t entirely sure what it was that he was so angry about.

Still, it was too late now. Morgana gave him a seething glare and stalked back to the castle. He let her. He’d just have to sort out this… whatever this was when he got back, that’s all.

\---

Really, he should have been more suspicious. After all, getting into Camelot had been just too easy. Even the guard rotas seemed to have stayed the same.

He’d even managed to resist the temptation to see Gaius and Gwen – not talk to, just see – but even that would have been too risky, and he didn’t want to _think_ about what Morgana would say if he endangered either of them.

As per their agreement, Elyan was waiting for him in an alley behind the _Galloping Badger_. When he saw Merlin approach, he reached for his sword instinctively, but relaxed when Merlin raised his hands in a gesture of peace.

“It’s alright. It’s me.” He said softly, and in the dim moonlight, he saw Elyan nod.

“Come on,” the other man said, leading the way out of the alley. “We need to hurry.”

“… Where’s the other person?” Merlin had an odd feeling that he couldn’t place, until he realised Elyan was leading him _away_ from the outer gates. “Oh. That’s why you need me, is it?”

Elyan stilled. “Uther got to her first. I hadn’t even realised she was in any danger until it was too late.”

“Is she in the cells?”

He nodded.

“Right.” Merlin’s mind was racing, thinking of all the different ways this could go. He picked out a plan from the mess of ideas, and decided to roll with it. “Stay behind me, but draw your sword. Here’s what we’re going to do…”

\---

Clearly, Merlin was making a day of it for doing stupid things. They’d barely opened the door of the cell, before Merlin had found himself surrounded by more Camelot soldiers than he’d ever fought singlehandedly before.

And he _was_ fighting them singlehandedly, because in the split second before they’d appeared, Elyan had made a break for it, along with the woman Merlin had never managed to see properly.

Eventually, of course, Merlin was the only one left standing, though it had taken rather more time than he thought he could afford to spare. All of the guards were down, but they’d managed to get a few lucky hits on him as well. Checking his injuries, Merlin found a stab wound on his upper forearm that he vaguely remembering feeling at some stage in the fight, and a nasty scratch on his thigh that he hadn’t noticed until this point.

He tried to pull together enough energy to heal himself, but just the idea of that much magic made him sway on his feet. He’d just have to stem the bleeding for now with some makeshift bandages, and deal with the rest later.

That settled, he headed off in the direction he’d seen Elyan take. That had been his intended escape route anyway – he might as well use it. He wasn’t planning on going after Elyan or anything. After all, he was probably long gone…

“Merlin!”

Or, alternatively, waiting by the horses with-

“Merlin, thank god you’re alright!”

“… _Gwen_?”

This wasn’t a hallucination. _Gwen_ was the person Elyan had needed help rescuing. Merlin wondered absently if the gods did this deliberately.

She ran forward to hug him, but he pulled back quickly with a wince at the pressure she was putting on her injured arm. For a moment, she looked hurt, but then she turned to glare at Elyan, who, Merlin realised, was her brother, judging by the resemblance he could now see between them.

Elyan cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh… Merlin, I’m sor-“

He raised a hand to stop him. “Don’t bother. I get it.”

“…You do?”

“Yeah, you were just trying to protect Gwen, right? Anyone else would have done the same thing.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

Merlin gave a dismissive nod. “We need to go. We’ve spent too long here already.”

They both looked up at him suddenly. “You still want us to come with you?”

And finally, Merlin smiled. “You think I’m just going to leave you here, after I went to all of that trouble?” He moved forward to mount his horse, and then remembered something, and turned back to look over his shoulder. “Oh, and Gwen? I know two people who are dying to see you again.”

\---

By the time they made it back to the fort, dawn was just beginning to break and Morgana was waiting for them. Merlin stayed well in the background of her reunion with Gwen, but when he caught a glimpse of Lancelot, he called him over bluntly, and then tugged Morgana away from the pair.

“Oh, gods, Merlin. What happened to your _arm?_ ”

Merlin winced. He still hadn’t felt up to healing it himself, but he’d hoped to find someone who could do it for him before she noticed. Instead, she glared at him until he let her heal it herself, and then his leg as well when she spotted that injury too.

“So much for being able to handle a couple of soldiers…”

“I’m still alive, aren’t I?” He protested defensively, but shut up quickly at her glower.

“…I’m sorry.” He muttered eventually.

“Huh,” was all Morgana said, but there was something odd in her tone. Merlin lifted his head to meet her eyes.

“Next time, I’m coming too. I won’t be left behind again, Merlin.”

He lowered his head again, scowling at his feet. “I can’t talk you out of this, can I?”

“You can try, but it would be a waste of time.” She responded smugly, and he exhaled deeply.

She was right, and it was stupid for him to keep fighting this. She could help, and she would help, and there was nothing he could do about it, except to let her. Lance was right – nobody could stop Morgana from getting what she wanted without seriously regretting it.

“Well, if I can’t stop you…” He met her eyes with a smile. “It’s been a while since we last fought together.”

“I’m glad you agree.” There was that smug smile again. _Godsdammit_ , Morgana… It didn’t last though. A strange look crossed her face as her gaze drifted across the courtyard to where Gwen and Lancelot were… well, that was their own business. Merlin felt sorry for Elyan though.

“There was something else I wanted to talk to you about…” She spoke so quietly that Merlin almost missed her words.

“Yeah?”

“I know… that things have changed a lot between us – that things have just changed a lot in general – and I’ve been trying not to hurry you into anything you weren’t ready for, but I need to know what this is, Merlin.” She finished with a great sigh, like she’d been holding her breath for too long.

Merlin stared at her in bewilderment. Hurry him into anything? What?

There was an expectant pause, so when Merlin failed to fill it, Morgana scowled and tried again. “If we don’t sort this out ourselves, you know someone else is going to do it for us, and it’s probably going to be Gwaine.”

And _that_ was the word that triggered his understanding. “Wait, you mean – But I thought… I’ve been an idiot, haven’t I?”

Now _she_ was the one who was confused. “Most of the time, yes. Are you telling me you didn’t-?” A laugh broke free that she quickly tried to muffle. “Merlin, what did you _think_ this was?”

“I thought you didn’t think of me like that! I mean, you used to give me that look in Camelot, but once we started being friends, you stopped, so I thought-“

He was cut off abruptly by Morgana pressing her lips against his. She pulled back quickly, and laughed again.

“I don’t want to be your friend, Merlin.”

“Oh. Well, you could have said that earlier.” He pulled her towards him, and they didn’t break apart again until a wolf-whistle from the growing crowd in the courtyard interrupted them.


	6. Chapter 6

“So, I found this really interesting room the other day, and I don’t know if you’ve come across this one or not…”

“Oh, did you now, Merlin? And who were you trying to avoid at the time? Or should I say, what?”

“Eh, that’s not important. But it had this chest, full to the top with – _Ástríce_! – full of books.”

Morgana swung her sword, knocking the soldier’s aside and cutting into his forearm. “They weren’t still legible, surely? That place hasn’t been used for decades!”

“ _Gesweorc, hine beclyppe!_ Some of them have gone mouldy, but somehow, the rest are actually still – “

“Duck!” Merlin dropped in the same instant Morgana threw out her hand, knocking back the soldiers creeping up in his blind spot. Without pausing, he followed the momentum, colliding with another soldier and catching him by surprise.

The motion moved the pair apart, breaking up their conversation. Merlin found himself fighting beside Gwen, noting that Morgana had the support of Gwaine and Lancelot. He was trying not to get too distracted watching her fight, but it wasn’t like he was really being challenged. The only thing holding him back was the risk of hurting his own people as well as Uther’s. They’d practically won this battle already – all they had to do now was make the Camelot soldiers see that.

Morgana was holding up her own just fine, starting fires or stunning soldiers whenever she seemed likely to be overwhelmed, so Merlin forced himself to focus on the rest of their fighters.

A small band was trapped in a doorway on the far side of the village. Merlin called a few bolts of lightning to thin out their opposition, but didn’t dare risk any more without putting the fighters themselves at risk.

But now he was going to regret his distraction, because a group of soldiers had taken the opportunity to get too close to him.

“ _Gestillan!”_ He shouted, and raised his mostly-forgotten sword to finish off the frozen soldiers. The ones who’d escaped the spell edged further away, to go after easier prey.

Moving on, Merlin spotted one of their fighters injured in the battlefield and helped them to safetu, calling over a healer to assist them. This then moved him closer to Morgana again – completely by accident, of course.

“So, tell me about these books then. Don’t say they’re all dreary histories, are they?” Morgana called out, spotting him.

“You wound me. Like I would be _that_ excited over some dusty old history books. Though – B _æl on bryne_ – maybe those would be useful for Mordred…”

“He would – Hah! – He would hate them, and you know it!”

“Yeah, but haven’t you wondered about the kind of upbringing we’ve giving him. I mean, it’s all spells and swordfighting. What kind of a childhood is that? But that’s beside the point, because they _aren’t_ history books, they’re – “

_Help! Someone help me!_

Merlin pulled Morgana back as she froze, saving her from a mortal wound, but not from a deep scratch across her cheek. Luckily, her opponent was unprepared for the difference in momentum he faced as a result of this, and he stumbled, catching himself badly on her sword.

“Was that-?” She whispered, stunned.

He nodded. “It came from over there, behind that forge.” The forge practically on the other side of the battlefield from them. It would take drastic measures for them to ever get there before it was too late. By Morgana’s expression, she’d realised the same thing.

There was only one thing Merlin could think of without time to make a proper plan, but it would be putting their own people at risk too, if they didn’t react fast enough.

“Drop to the ground. As soon as they’re down, run!” Without waiting for a response, he shouted “Quake!” in the hope that their fighters would understand, and slammed his palm onto the ground. “ _Ic þe bebiede þæt þu abifest nu_!”

The ground trembled, and rebels and soldiers both lost their balance. Without wasting a second, Merlin and Morgana both took off towards the shout they’d heard, reaching him just in time. As they burst through the entrance of the house behind the forge, a soldier raised his sword, catching himself at their appearance and changing Mordred from a victim to a hostage.

“Drop your weapons.” The soldier ordered, swinging Mordred around so that his sword was pressed against the boy’s throat.

Two swords clattered to the ground, and Merlin and Morgana instantly found half a dozen more pointed in their direction.

“Mordred, are you alright?” Merlin called out, but the boy didn’t respond, apparently unconscious.

“What do you think this will achieve? He’s just a child!” Morgana protested, turning their attention towards the soldier.

“He’s a filthy sorcerer, just like the rest of you!”

Mordred was beginning to stir, Merlin noted with relief, so he pressed on, hoping to distract the soldier and buy them more time. “Do you think this is going to make a difference to the battle? We’re _winning_. Killing him isn’t going to gain you anything!”

There! His eyes were opening, slowly at first, but with a sudden burst of energy as he seemed to take in his surroundings. Mordred struggled for a moment, before the pressure of the sword against his throat reminded him to keep still. A lucky kick reminded the soldier to stay a sword’s length away from the boy though, which was enough to give Merlin a halfway trustworthy plan.

_Just like we practiced. You can do it._ He told Mordred, once he’d prodded the idea into his head.

_But what about you and Morgana?_

_We’ll be fine. You aren’t going to hurt us, Mordred. I trust you._

Mordred nodded, and Morgana, who’d been continuing the conversation through his distraction, gave them both a narrow look. Before she could do anything else, though, the druid boy opened his mouth, and Merlin dived for Morgana, knocking her to the ground.

A loud scream echoed strangely in Merlin’s ears, making it hard to focus on anything else. He felt someone shake his shoulder, and forced himself to focus.

“-rlin. Merlin, we need to move. Come on.” His eyes focused on Morgana, and blearily, he nodded, staggering back to his feet.

“At least Mordred didn’t hit me with it full blast.” He joked half-heartedly, but Morgana gave him a dark look.

“Mordred, grab the swords.” She slipped her arm under Merlin’s shoulder, and reclaimed her own sword, before leading them back onto the battlefield.

They skirted around the edges of the fight, staying mostly unnoticed by some miracle, until they found the house where the cluster of healers were situated. There, Merlin was forced down onto a seat and Mordred was given a hard stare and told to _stay right there_ while Morgana spoke to the healers.

She stayed in the doorway while they were being looked at, but the moment they were pronounced Not Immediately In Danger Of Death, she marched right over.

“Uh, oh.” Mordred whispered, and Merlin swallowed nervously.

Morgana turned her furious glare on them. “Since either you or I have to be out there, to keep up appearances, I’m going back out into the battle. You two are going to stay _right here_ with the healers, until the fight is over. _Then_ , we’re going to have a long talk about stupid, _irresponsible_ behaviour, do you hear me?”

They nodded.

“Good.” She whirled out the door and was gone.

There was a long silence, broken by Mordred muttering something so quietly that Merlin couldn’t make it out.

“What was that?”

“I… I’m sorry.”

“Ah… right. For sneaking into the battle, or…?”

Mordred looked sheepish. “For hurting you. I didn’t mean to get you as well.”

“I know you didn’t. You don’t need to feel bad about that, Mordred. You’re alive, I’m alive, Morgana’s alive, and that’s all that matters right now. The rest… can wait until she gets back and I’m feeling less concussed.”

Mordred nodded, though he still looked guilty. “Will… will ‘Gana be safe on her own out there?”

“Morgana?” Merlin forced a laugh to cover his mirrored concerns. “She’ll be fine. Lancelot and Gwen are out there, watching her back. Gwaine too. And she’s pretty good at looking after herself, you know.”

“You aren’t worried?”

He sobered for a moment. “Well… yes. The main thing is though, you can’t let that control you. I trust Morgana to come back safe, and so should you.”

After that, the questions stopped, and they both settled down to wait. And wait. And wait.

\---

A sudden cheer startled Merlin, and he lurched towards the doorway before any of the healers could stop him. Uther’s men were dead, or gone, and their own people were victorious, by the looks of things. He spied Morgana in the heart of the battlefield and stumbled towards her, catching her in her exhaustion as much as she caught him.

“I thought you were supposed to stay there.” She said acidly, or, at least, tried to.

“Until the fight was over, you said. Looks pretty over to me.”

They linked their arms around each other and staggered back towards the healers’ hut, where Lancelot was waiting for them.

“Well?” Merlin said, a little more harshly than he’d intended, but he hoped Lance would understand.

“Camelot’s soldiers have retreated from this village for now. We’ll make preparations for the vulnerable to be moved to safety, and leave some fighters behind in case the soldiers return, but otherwise, I think it’s safe for us to return to the fort now.”

“How many did we lose?” Morgana asked, and Lance looked away for a moment.

“We haven’t got an official number yet, but… Too many, that’s for sure.”

“He’s never sent so many soldiers against us before.” She mused. “What’s so important about this village to him?”

“…Maybe this wasn’t about the village.”

Lancelot looked up at Merlin sharply. “You don’t mean-?”

“Think about it. These past few months, we’ve been fighting more and more openly against him. Us specifically too. To send such a large force to a mostly insignificant village so near to the fort – that can’t be a coincidence. He must have some idea at least of where our base is, after all.”

“So… what? He was trying to draw you out? To capture, or kill you?”

“No… No, that’s not right at all.” Morgana broke in. “I know Camelot’s tactics remember. If this was about getting rid of us, it’s not how he’d go about it. I think he’s testing the waters. Assessing our strength. We’re not just some petty rebellion to him anymore. We’re a genuine threat.”

They exchanged a look.

“What does this mean for us then?”

Merlin thought for a moment. “Nothing yet. We carry on as before – infiltrating Camelot, spreading rumours, helping villages where we can. Let’s see how Uther reacts first.”

“We may need to think of moving things ahead a little earlier than planned though.” Morgana added. “We need to be ready in case Uther decides to march against us.”

Lancelot nodded. “I’ll go spread the word.”

“And we…” Morgana nudged Merlin’s shoulder. “We need to go lecture a certain someone, don’t we?”

Merlin grimaced. “Great…”

\---

“What were you thinking? You could have been killed – you nearly got _us_ killed! You’re only a child, Mordred. A battle is no place for a thirteen year old boy! And even if it were, you are certainly far from ready to be fighting with us. You’ve been training for less than a year!”

Merlin took Morgana’s brief pause to draw breath as an opportunity to jump in, stepping forward from his position against the wall. “I’m more worried about _how_ you snuck here with us. Did somebody help you?”

Mordred didn’t meet their eyes.

“ _Mordred_.”

“… He said it would be a good opportunity for me to prove myself. So you’d let me help more.” The boy muttered.

“ _Who_ did?”

“Lucan.”

“The boy you were training with?” Morgana snapped furiously, and Mordred nodded.

“He gets to fight, and he’s not that much older than I am!” The boy protested.

“Mordred, he has three years on you, and he’s been training for at least two. In a battle, that’s a world of difference.”

“It’s not fair! I want to help! Why do you teach me all this stuff if I can’t use it?”

Merlin sighed. “We taught you those things so you could protect yourself, not so you could get involved in our fights. That’s not a decision you should be making yet.”

“That’s not a decision he should be making at all!” Morgana disputed.

“In a few more years, we can’t stop him. We’re not of his blood after all – we don’t actually have any power over him. But this isn’t something you should choose lightly, Mordred. Battle and killing, it changes you in a way you will never be able to come back from, do you understand?”

The boy nodded.

“Good. We’d better get back to the fort. Morgause must be worrying about you…”

“No, she’s gone.”

Merlin and Morgana both looked up sharply. “What? Where?”

Mordred shrugged. “I don’t know. She got a message just after you went and left in a hurry. That’s when I… um…”

They exchanged a look.

“You don’t think something’s happened with Cenred, do you?” Morgana asked, concerned, but Merlin shook his head.

“No, she’s got him wrapped around her little finger. This must be something else…”

“Huh… Mordred, where do you think you’re going? We’re not done with you yet.”

“But-“ He protested, inches away from his escape through the doorway.

“Merlin, what were you telling me earlier about those history books?” He caught a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Well, there aren’t actually that many history books. They’re mostly legends or-“

“ _Merlin_.”

“-But the history ones are all pretty dull. Family histories. Drawn out wars. That sort of thing.”

“Perfect.” Morgana grinned. “Well, Mordred, if you’re so eager to learn about battles, then guess what you’re going to be spending the next few months learning about.”

“But, _‘Gana_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, fight scenes are another area where I'm mostly winging it. I really hope it works for you guys. Also, points to those who know what the unexplained spells do without googling it. Not that, you know, I'll know if you do, but it's the principle of the thing! :)
> 
> I'm also hoping I've got Mordred okay. The way he appears in this story isn't really a side of him we get to see in the series, so I'm mostly basing it on how I'd expect someone of his general age to behave and guessing from there.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed it! Comments or questions are welcomed below, or alternatively, come find me on tumblr!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... not dead. *sheepish wave*
> 
> This chapter does contain a vague description of an implied rape, so if you're not comfortable reading that, go to the end notes to see details of how to avoid it.

It was four days before Morgause returned to the fort. Four long, long days, where Merlin could hardly let Morgana out of his sight without her making plots to go after her sister.

“She knows what she’s doing,” he’d pointed out.

“She’s disappeared for longer than this before,” he’d reasoned.

“She can protect herself,” he’d persuaded.

And she’d nod, and return to the task she was supposed to be focusing on, and not an hour later he’d catch her doing it again.

So, really, he’d been pretty relieved when Morgause actually came riding through the gates.

Morgana was with Elyan and Gwen, inspecting the state of the armoury, but Merlin had chosen to observe Mordred’s lessons rather than join her as he usually would when he had the time to spare.

True to Morgana’s promise, the young druid boy had begun studying his books almost the moment they returned to the fort, though not without complaint. What lessened the extent of those complaints, thought, was Morgana and Merlin’s joint decision to increase the frequency of his swordplay lessons. They’d agreed that maybe, just maybe, they might have somewhat encouraged Mordred’s interest in fighting by bringing him into the heart of a rebel organisation that kept them both rather distracted and busy, and since they could hardly send him away, the only choice left to them way to train him as best they could. One thing Morgana had been particularly clear on, though, was that Mordred would not be join any battles until he was fifteen at the very least, giving him a good few years safe from skirmishes.

In the meantime, Merlin got to watch Gwaine drilling him mercilessly, fighting against his instinct to intervene.

“You know, he really is rather talented with a sword, when you think about how little training he’s had until now.” Lancelot commented from his place beside Merlin.

Merlin replied with a smirk, and “don’t tell Morgana that,” but found a part of him struggling to find the humour in the idea.

“If she doesn’t know already, she’s a fool.”

“Don’t call-” Merlin started before he could stop himself.

Lance looked at him in surprise for a moment, before laughing and clapping him on the back. “My apologies. I in no way intended to cause insult to your Lady.”

“Lance…”

“In all seriousness, though, with enough training, Mordred may even go on to rival Arthur Pendragon himself, and that’s without taking his magic into account.”

Before his mind could properly catch up to what Lance had said, Merlin found himself laughing.

“Now that I find hard to believe.” He said without meaning to, and only the sight of Morgause bursting through the gates on her horse was enough to let him pretend he couldn’t see Lancelot’s shock.

It took a great deal of effort for him to pretend that he wasn’t hurrying towards her, after all the trouble he’d taken to convince Morgana there was nothing to worry about, but Morgause rushed over to meet him the second she’d leapt down from her horse.

“What happened? Has something gone wrong?” He pressed, but Morgause ignored his questions, responding instead with one of her own.

“Where’s my sister?”

“In the armoury. I’ll send someone to fetch her-“

“Get du Lac as well. I’ve discovered something of great significance that the three of you must know.”

Lancelot was called over, and Morgana sent for, and after barely any time at all, the four of them were assembled in what had long been dubbed the fort’s ‘council chambers’.

“Well?” Morgana asked of her sister, perhaps slightly more imperiously than she had intended, but Morgause seemed to be struggling to broach whatever topic she’d gathered them for.

“I’ve been to our family home.” She said at last.

“You went to Tintagel? But why? Uther told me that there was nothing of significance left in the place.” Morgana frowned.

Lance snorted, holding his hands up in defence when three pairs of eyes focused on him. “As I recall, he also led you to believe you were an only child, and always had been, and yet here we are.”

Merlin reached for Morgana’s hand, pressing it reassuringly. “Morgause, what did you find in Tintagel?”

She drew out a folded piece of paper from her shirt. “A letter, from our mother, Vivienne, to her husband. It was still sealed when my… friend found it. It could be that she never sent it, or perhaps it was lost before she could. There’s no way to know.”

“Let me see,” was Morgana’s response, practically snatching the paper from her sister’s hand, and Merlin remembered that, unlike himself, Morgana had never known her mother, and knew nothing of her except what had been told to her as a child. Any mystery surrounding would be a source of great interest as a matter of course.

He watched as her eyes scanned through the letter quickly. She placed suddenly, clutching at the table for support, and then read through the letter again, and again.

“No, this can’t be. Morgause, tell me this is all some kind of trick, some silly game. I can’t- He can’t be-” She pleaded.

“But sister, don’t you see? This is wonderful news!”

“Wonderful? He’s a monster! I want him dead!”

“Morgana, what is it? What does the letter say?” Merlin intervened, placing himself between the sisters.

“Read it! Lance too, I suppose.” She thrust the letter into his hands, and, with wary eyes, he turned to the words on the page.

_My dearest Gorlois,_

_Or perhaps you may feel that I have no right to address you thus when you have read the words that I must set down on this page for the good of my conscience. How could I ever consider myself still dear to you, after I have betrayed you so utterly?_

_Little Morgause is to have a brother or sister, dear husband, and yet I can only feel guilt and shame at what should bring me joy. Perhaps you, who so often accused me of inconstancy, now suspect the awful news my conscience tells me that I must bear to you, and indeed, here it is:_

_The child I am carrying is not your child, Gorlois._

_I have no right to ask this of you, but for the love you once bore me, and perhaps still do, please, Gorlois, let me explain myself to you._

_Not long after you left for the wars, a young lord stayed here, at Tintagel. He was attentive to me, and perhaps I encouraged his attentions a little, angered as I was by our manner of parting. Please believe me when I say I had no intention of betraying my vows to you with him, but I realised too late how deeply he had misunderstood my actions._

_The night before your last return, I retired early, feeling a little out of sorts. At the time, I believed I had simply had too much wine, encouraged as I was by my guest, and perhaps this may go some way to explaining my memory of that night, though I am no longer certain. Though I am sure you will not believe me when I say this, I truly believed it was you who entered my bedchamber that night. I heard_ your _footsteps, saw_ your _silhouette. I thought, perhaps, that you had missed me, or some such foolish notion. However, when morning came, it was not your body I found myself waking beside, but that of Uther Pendragon. I nearly screamed, but he woke before I could cry out, and warned me than screaming would only bring the whole household in to see my shame. He persuaded me that it could remain secret, swore to preserve my reputation and never breathe a word of my shame, and then he dressed, left my chambers, and was gone from Tintagel long before your return._

_He knows the child is his, but refuses to have anything to do with it. This child is my child, and my burden to bear. Now that King Uther has been officially crowned and seated in Camelot, with his new Queen, Igraine, by his side, he has far more important matters to take his attention than dealing with my sins. I couldn’t keep this a secret from you any longer though, Gorlois. Whatever you may believe of me now, I love you too much for that._

_I think this child is going to kill me, Gorlois. The goddesses are punishing me for my sins. Yet, as afraid as I am, I hope that their punishments will end there, and that my son – or perhaps, daughter – will not suffer for my mistake, and there I come to the second favour I must ask of you, my husband._

_I do not ask that you claim this child as yours, nor even that you should feel obligated to love it – I have no right to make those claims on you – but if I am not to live long enough to care for him, then I beg you not to leave him to starve. Offer him some small comfort at least, in the name of the love that I truly still bear you. I will not ask for luxury or rank on his behalf. All I can ask of you is that you do not, in the anger you will surely bear against me, let this child pay for the mistakes I have made._

_There is nothing more I dare ask of you, so all I have left is to assure you that I am, and despite my actions have always been,_

_Your loving Vivienne._

With great effort, Merlin looked away from the page, and into Morgana’s imperious gaze.

“Well?” She demanded.

He passed the letter to Lance. “Well, what?”

“My father is- My father has- How can you look me in the eye after reading that?” Morgana burst out.

“Sister-” Morgause started to say in a placating tone, but Merlin interrupted her.

“You’re a bastard. So what?” He shrugged. “At least you’re a king’s bastard. All I know about my father is that he certainly wasn’t married to my mother.”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it! My father is _Uther Pendragon_ , the man who has _slaughtered_ hundreds if not thousands of our people. How can I have any right to lead them now?”

“On the contrary,” Lancelot said, returning the letter to Morgause, “this knowledge would give our rebellion further legitimacy if we let it be known. We have a leader with a genuine birthright to the throne. If we use this, we could stand a chance at actually taking Camelot from Uther, and placing you on his throne instead.”

Morgana blinked. “What?”

Lancelot exchanged looks with Merlin and Morgause, who placed her hand on Morgana’s arm.

“Sister, if we are to rid Camelot of Uther’s tyranny, then we must have someone else of our own choosing to rule in his place. You grew up in the heart of Camelot’s court, you understand its politics. You even took control over the governance of this fort from almost the moment you set foot in it. Now, with the addition of this gift, you of all of us are best suited for rule of Camelot.”

“But I assumed… Merlin?”

He snorted. “Me? King of Camelot? Can you see me navigating all those politics and social niceties, and being so exposed to all that attention?”

Briefly, he had the achievement of seeing a flicker of a smile flit across her face before the worry returned. “They’ll never accept a bastard woman on the throne of Camelot.”

“They will if it’s you. The people loved you, Morgana, and they will again when they know that you still live. Don’t you see what this will mean for us? With Ar-” Merlin swallowed and tried again. “With Uther without heirs, we can oppose him openly, publicly name you rightful heir. We won’t have to hide anymore.”

“Well…” Lancelot interrupted. “It may be best to build up a greater number of forces with better training first. Establish a few more bases. Otherwise Uther will destroy us in the first battle. We shouldn’t have too many issues with that, though. More and more people are joining us every day.”

“With a few more months, we will have the aid and support of King Cenred and his army.” Morgause added.

“And we have something Uther will never dare to use – Magic. Maybe it’s about time we started really training the recruits with a talent for it. Teach it as well as accept it.” Merlin kept his eyes on Morgana, but she was staring determinedly at the floor.

They waited a few more moments for her to reply, before Merlin finally looked away. “We’ll let you think about it…”

“Wait.” His head snapped up to meet her gaze.

“Would you give me a moment alone with Merlin?” She asked the others, and they both nodded and left the room.

When they’d left, Morgana took a step closer to Merlin, so that they were leaning against each other.

“Are you sure you don’t want to rule?”

“Certain.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“Not even a little bit.”

“Not even as Consort?”

“Not even as- what?” Merlin made a noise that may have been a yelp but he certainly would have denied if ever called into question about it.

“C-Consort? You’re asking… Morgana, are you asking me to marry you?”

She pretended to consider it. “Yes, I am.”

“But I’ve got no birth, no rank. I’m just-“

“A bastard, same as me, just like you pointed out.” She was laughing at him now, he was sure of it. “Merlin, if I’m going to do this, then I want to do it with you by my side. I want us to do this together, same as we’ve done this past year. I want to do this for Mordred too, because he won’t escape attention if we go through with this, and I want his place with us to be unquestionable. I want us to be a real family, in a way that is at least making an effort to seem normal.

Merlin blinked. “So, this is a tactical proposal?”

“Only a little bit.” Her hand brushed against his. “The rest was just waiting to see if _you_ were ever going to ask _me_.”

“Oh. _Oh._ ” Their fingers linked together, and somehow, though he couldn’t say when it happened for sure, their heads were leaning together. For a little while, they stayed like this in silence, and then Merlin asked, “How would you feel about Midsummer?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Implied rape. Skip the italicised section/letter if you want to avoid this. The chapter should still make sense without this section.
> 
> I would also like to clarify that I in no way condone rape or consider victims of rape to be responsible for what has happened to them. Vivienne's beliefs do not reflect my own. 
> 
> On a semi-lighter note, I got distracted and have a vague general idea of why exactly Gorlois never read that letter/Vivienne never sent it, so let know if you want to hear my thoughts on that.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AKA, a day in the life of Morgana Pendragon.

Some days, Morgana missed being able to laze around in bed guilt-free. It had been a shock at first, having to wake up at some ungodly hour, and with no Gwen to help her, just to get all her chores done. Now it was just an old habit though, borne from nearly two years of early mornings, despite there no longer being a need for her to wake so early. No more lazing around in bed, either. When she’s up, these days, she’s _up_.

First stop after dressing was always the kitchen. In the early days, the kitchen workers would protest, but she’d always had a talent for arguing, and they hadn’t contested her assistance in _months._ Lynette, the head cook, was there already, cheerfully hammering away at some dough.

“Good morning, milady” She greeted Morgana with a smile. “I wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

“Good morning.” She attempted to smile back, but it was still too early for that. “Where would you like me?”

She was directed towards a bowl of dough waiting to be kneaded, and got to work.

“Where’s Ethan this morning?” She asked conversationally.

“Ah, he tagged along with the fighters going to that place in the White Mountains. Arm- Arl-, Ar- something or other?”

“Arwes?”

“Mm. He grew up in the next village over, so I guess he knew some people there.”

The rumours coming from that direction weren’t reassuring. Supposedly, Uther had gotten wind of some kind of a planned sympathetic rebellion from the village, and since the mining industry there was so key to Camelot’s wealth, he had cracked down hard on the possible rebels. The first anyone at the fort had heard of the whole mess, which was worrying in itself, was that Uther had sent a battalion to seize control, forcing them to send a group of their own fighters to help the villagers.

“Can you manage on your own until he gets back?” She asked. “It’ll take a lot of time away from your archery practice.”

“Oh, I’ve already spoken to Tom. He’s given me some exercises I can do in my own time…”

They continued to chatter aimlessly until the sun was fully risen and people were coming in search of breakfast before they began their work. As the slow trickle grew to a steady stream of people, Morgana saw her cue to leave. Taking her leave of Lynette, she filched some breakfast for herself, and headed off to her next task, a simple survey of the fort and any problems that needed dealing with.

She started with the battlements, making conversation with the men and women on guard, before touring the sections being rebuilt or refurbished, the armoury, and the stables. She was stopped frequently along the way, sometimes to deal with complaints or arguments, but also to receive greetings and well-wishes. Most of the issues were fairly simple to fix, but a few required more time and thought, and were arranged to be deal with in a meeting the next day. And by then, it was time to rush off to the council room for the next task.

“Oh, good, I’m not late.” She said in relief, taking her seat.

Morgause looked unimpressed, but Lance just laughed.

“Actually, I think you are,” he said. “Merlin’s just later, as usual.”

“Hm. I’m sure he had good reason.” Morgause commented, raising an eyebrow.

“Who has good reason?”

Morgana’s eyes shot up, and she grinned. “Not you, certainly!” she retorted.

Merlin gave a dramatic sigh of relief as he sat down beside her. “You had me worried for a moment there.”

“ _If_ we could get onto topic, now that we’re all here,” Lance broke in, “you two will have plenty of time for that later.”

She smirked at him, before focusing on the task ahead. “There’s nothing significant to report from my end. I’ve had more complaints about food supplies, but we already knew about that. The rebuilding of the western wing is on schedule. The last report from the Carsby base said they were too full, so they’re sending some of their people to us to redistribute. Dunbury have finished their forge, so that’s one less thing they’ll need from us in future. The report from Duntoft is late, but I don’t think it’s a concern yet.”

Lance spoke next, summarising the state of their fighters across the bases.

“…So with the exception of Caerborough, then, I don’t think we have any concerns. Our losses are lower and lower with each battle, and all of our bases can defend themselves and their nearest villages, if necessary.”

“Does Caerborough need any help from us?” Merlin leaned forward.

There was a pause as he thought for a moment. “A few of our more skilled fighters should be enough, to help them out with their training. Devlin and Elaine would be best, I believe.”

When the group nodded their assent, they moved on to the next item.

“There have been increasing reports of villages rising up again Uther’s edicts.” Morgause began. “Unfortunately, it would seem that Uther has been taking more militant action as a result. My informants say he’s been sending in his army more and more often to put down revolts, and consequently, conscription has been significantly increased. More worryingly, I have reason to believe that he had returned to the methods adopted against Ealdor. Entire villages of people have disappeared overnight, with only ashes left of their homes.”

The group was silent for a long moment.

“…We can’t keep waiting any more, can we?” Morgana said quietly.

“Now we finally have the support of Cenred’s army, whenever we should need it, it would be to our advantage to move soon in any case.” Her sister conceded. “He’s not bright, but given enough time, even he could realise that we won’t follow through on our agreements, and then we would have two enemies to contend with.”

“From a military perspective, we’re about as strong as we’re likely to get.” Lancelot added.

All eyes turned to Merlin, and waited for his verdict.

“…I would have liked more time to train our magical fighters, but, really, any magic is going to be an advantage against Uther, as long as we’re clever, and use it strategically. I think… if we can form a sound plan, we should move as soon as we can.”

He waited for Morgana and the others to nod in agreement before continuing. “Let’s leave it there for today. Test the waters, see how people feel about going to war properly, but do it quietly. We’ll meet with Ruadan and the others next week and talk strategy, if the idea isn’t met with too much opposition.”

They broke the meeting and started heading towards the dining hall, Merlin and Morgana dropping behind to get a moment of privacy. She looped her arm through his, leaning against his side, and the two focused on inane topics of chatter, avoiding the topic forefront on both of their minds. Mordred joined them in the dining hall, where the conversation shifted to his lessons, and all too quickly, it was time for them to return to their respective tasks.

Morgana continued her rounds, heading out to the training grounds. Many of the fighters were only just returning from their meal, but a few were already at work, drilling. She leaned against the low wall in front of her and watched as Gwaine began to organise the group.

“I’ve got some fun for you today, folks!” He called out cheerfully. “Not only do we have a special audience for today’s session,” half a bow in her direction, as she snorted back a laugh, “but you all get to experience the delight of working in a combined formation for the first. For those of you idiots who fell asleep in the last session, that’s a unit made up of both magical and non-magical people, fighting together as a team. Given how long you lot have been training together, I should hope that you’ve worked out _some_ of the skills, both magical and not, at your unit’s disposal today. If not, well, tough, you’d better work it out fast.

“Now, it’s not all bad news. We’ve decided to be nice.” He gestured vaguely towards the cluster behind him, consisting of Elyan, Devlin, Elaine, Percival and Emmyria, the fort’s star fighters. “You get to take us on one by one in units of six. That way, some of you may actually use your heads and learn what _not_ to do, without learning it the hard way.

“Right, you know the rules, but I’ll say them again anyway. Barring actual lethal moves, if it works, it’s allowed, and if it works really, really well, pay attention, ‘cause you’ll have to teach it to everyone else. Let’s go!”

The group was quickly divided up into smaller units of six. Gwaine called the first group forward, and the fighting began.

It was catastrophic. The first unit failed to work as a  team at all, each of them taking on the main unit, who weren’t using magic, individually, and being summarily defeated by them. The second unit at least tried to work together, but quickly devolved into fighting amongst themselves when a stray spell hit the wrong person. But they were, as Gwaine had said, making efforts to learn from the mistakes of the team’s before them, and the third team did make efforts to communicate better. It was just a shame they weren’t successful at it. The fourth and final unit came the closest of all at defeating the main unit, but only on a technicality that effectively defeated the purpose of the exercise, and even then they still a long way off.

Gwaine called them back in again, to talk to the group as a whole. “Well, that was terrible,” he commented, “but the good news is you can only get better. So far, you’ve all proved you can be competent fighters individually, but if you can’t work as a team, and use _all_ of your respective talents, then you’re not going to be much good.”

He sent them back into the same units again, and set them to working on better teamwork and communication. Gwaine’s own unit split up, going between the teams to offer pointers. Morgana made her way towards the fourth one, where Elyan and Elaine were demonstrating something. The group of recruits all shuffled nervously at her approach, but Elaine and Elyan knew her better and waited until they’d finished their demonstration before acknowledging her. She nodded to them before turning to the group.

“Interesting tactics you used back there.” She said. “You’re all clearly skilled at using swords. Whose idea was it to focus on that, rather than use your magic?”

A woman stepped forward after a pause. “Mine, milady.”

“How long have you been using magic…?” She raised an eyebrow expectantly.

“Catherine, milady. Five years now, or thereabouts.”

“Do you know how to fight with it?”

The woman hesitated. “A little. I only know what I’ve learnt here, at the fort, milady.”

Morgana nodded. “And you know how to use your sword better.” She turned to the rest of the group. “Does the same go for the rest of you?”

There was a general chorus of agreeing murmurs.

“Hm. Draw your sword, Catherine – Elyan, could I borrow yours? – And the rest of you, give us some space, but pay attention.” She tested the weight of Elyan’s sword before settling into position. “Now, you can use your sword to fend off my attacks, but I want you to use your magic to disarm me. Same rules as usual – use any means you like as long as it’s not lethal – and if you could _try_ to avoid injuring anything important, I’d appreciate it, but it’s not essential. Whenever you’re ready, Catherine.”

For a moment, neither moved, as Catherine watched her warily. Then she stepped forward, and the fight began.

“ _Wáce ierlic_!” The woman tried, after the exchange of a few blows, and Morgana went flying back. Her sword fell from her grip, but the new distance from her opponent gave her time to recover it and bring it up in defence before Catherine could reach her.

“Not especially useful in one-on-one combat, but that would be effective against an army of soldiers.” She conceded as she continued the fight.

With her next spell. Catherine sent a ball of fire racing towards Morgana, grazing her knuckles.

“Better!” Morgana praised. “But in battle, you risk hitting your allies if you’re not careful.”

Her knuckles ached a little, but now she had the opening she’d been waiting for. She raised her sword, calling out as clearly as she could “ _Brand hætaþ!_ ” The sword in her opponent’s hand glowed red-hot for only an instant before she let the spell go, but it was enough to make Catherine drop her sword. Morgana stopped her own a fraction away from Catherine’s head, and then relaxed her position.

“Is your hand badly hurt?”

Catherine shook her head. “What about yours?”

Morgana stretched out her fingers, testing the damaged skin. “It’s nothing I can’t deal with.”

Glancing around, she realised the fight had gathered quite a crowd from the other recruits, so she straightened her shoulders and called out, “Who can suggest a spell Catherine could have used…?”

The discussion went on for a little while, analysing the spells used by both Catherine and Morgana, as well as possible alternatives. Morgana, with the help of Gwaine and the others, broke down each spell suggested into its useful components, explaining where each spell would be most effective on a battlefield, or offering more practical variations of the spells. By the end of it, it was past time for Morgana to move onto her next task, so she left Gwaine to get them practicing their new ideas.

The next stop was the healers’ wing over in the eastern part of the fort. She was tempted to stop in on the unofficial classroom along the way, but really, Mordred had been doing so well with his lessons the past few months, and she wasn’t going to embarrass him in front of the other kids. It still amazed her how readily he’d accepted the challenge of lessons, once he’d stopped thinking of it as a punishment. For months now, his only complaint about being left at the fort for skirmishes had been out of concern for Merlin and Morgana, not childish desire for battle. Then again, perhaps his new familiarity with the healers’ wing was responsible for that. Morgana could certainly remember it having a similar effect on her as a child.

Instead, though, she carried on to the healers’ wing, which was as noisy and chaotic as it ever was. She made her way slowly around the room, chatting with and checking up on each patient. At one point, the head healer pulled her aside for a word.

“Thank you for getting us those medicines, milady,” he said, “but I’m afraid I have another favour to ask.”

“Whatever you need, I’ll do what I can,” she promised readily.

“The long and short of it is, milady, that we simply don’t have enough hands here. We have more than enough medicine to deal with most of the ailments and infections, but if there’s no one observing the patients when the infection develops, then there’s no guarantee that we can treat them in time to help.”

Morgana frowned in concern. “Do you need people with proper training, or is it enough to have ones who can follow instructions?”

He sighed. “I doubt any more healers will appear out of nowhere, so anyone who can do as they’re told will have to be enough.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” She nodded.

She continued her cycle around the room, and managed to speak to several more patients before she was interrupted again. The doors burst open loudly, and she looked up startled to see Gwen standing there breathlessly. She scanned the room the room hurriedly before spotting Morgana and running over to her.

“What are you doing? We have to hurry or you’ll be late!”

Before she could even protest, Gwen was dragging her out into the corridors and back towards her room, where a fine, blue dress was spread out on her bed, waiting for her.

Morgana caught her breath. “Gwen, it’s beautiful! How long did it take to do all that embroidery?”

“Oh, it was nothing.” She said dismissively, but her cheeks had flushed bright red.

“And this one’s yours?” She gestured to the lilac dress lying beside hers.

Gwen nodded and looked at it with a proud smile, before she turned back to Morgana’s dress, picking it up. With her assistance, Morgana quickly changed out of her workaday dress and into her fine new one, and then she began the careful work of unravelling Morgana’s braid. Gwen reached for her hairbrush, but Morgana grabbed it first.

“It’s alright, I can do that. You still need to change into your own dress.”

“But-“ Gwen hesitated.

She smiled softly. “I can brush my own hair, Gwen. Go on.”

By the time she’d worked through all of the tangles, Gwen was dressed, and there was only one thing left.

“Here.” Gwen reached up, gently placing the wreath on Morgana’s head. “You’re ready.”

She took a deep breath, before turning to face herself in the little mirror on her table. The woman staring back at her was someone Morgana of Camelot would never have known, a woman clad in a simple, though beautiful, woollen dress, with her hair spread wild and free across her shoulders and a clumsy wreath on her head where a diadem would have sat before.

She hesitated. “I never thought my wedding would be like this.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gwen still. “Do you… Do you regret it? It’s not too late, if you don’t want this, and Merlin would understand. Probably. I mean, definitely!”

“I…” Morgana forced herself to stop and think before she spoke. “No. No, it’s worth it. I never would have been allowed to make a love match in Camelot in any case. It just doesn’t seem _real_ , Morgana P- Morgana Pendragon having a quiet, woodland wedding in the forest with the fairies and wild folk.” She took one last look at the stranger in the mirror, before turning to face Gwen, who smiled softly.

“Well, it’ll be real soon. Though we do have to hurry.” Gwen laughed. “You can’t keep Merlin waiting!”

She took a deep breath, and straightened her shoulders.

“Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I've got a couple of things.
> 
> Firstly, apologies for the delays. As important as my writing is to me, my A-Levels (and next year, my degree) has to come first, and because of this, I couldn't really justify dedicating time to finishing this chapter in the middle of exam season. And then some family stuff reared up and took away a lot of my free time for the past month. So, sorry about that.
> 
> The good news is, and this is the second thing, that we're nearly at the end now. One more chapter, and that's it for this story. I've got some ideas already for my next fic, which will also be in the Merlin fandom, but it's going to take a lot of time and research, and may take a long while to appear.
> 
> Finally, it was pointed out in the last chapter that I made some errors and over-vagueness with my timings. One part I've already fixed in that chapter, and the other I hope to fix here, by outlying the passage of time across the fic. I hope this makes things clearer, and I'm sorry for not being clear enough about that before.
> 
> So here's my thoughts:  
> By Chapter 2, 3 months have passed since the start of the fic.  
> By the end of C3, it's been 3 months, 1 week and 3 days since the start.  
> By C4, it's been around 7 months overall.  
> By C5, it's been 9 months, roughly.  
> By C6 and C7, it's been a year and 3 months (and not several years as I originally had Morgana saying, sorry)  
> And the end of this chapter brings us to 1 year and 9 months, or thereabouts, since the beginning of this fic.
> 
> And that's it. I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please let me know what you think!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, again, my knowledge of all things battles, including battle related injuries and treatments, is basically nonexistent, so, sorry for any errors. There's only so much you can learn from Google.

Strike. Parry. Counter. Repeat.

For every one of Uther’s soldiers she took down, another instantly stepped into his place. Morgana felt as though she was trapped in an endless cycle of blows and parries, with no certainty of its effectiveness.

How long had the fighting been going now? Days? Hours? She’d progressed past the outlying villages where the battle for Camelot had begun, but the city walls were still a long way off. At some stage, she’d lost her unit, and she couldn’t even say for certain whether they were dead, injured, or simply fighting elsewhere, out of her sightline.

A group of fighters pushed on ahead, giving her a brief respite to catch her breath and take in her surroundings again.

It was just barely getting dark, meaning the battle hadn’t even been going a few hours. Thanks to some fires started by soldiers in the villages behind her, there was enough light to see by despite the sunset. She couldn’t tell whether it had been meant as a distraction for her fighters, or to prevent the villages rising up against Uther, as many had over the past few years, but it was certainly effective at either.

Many of the villagers had been forced to focus on getting the blazes under control, and many of Morgana’s fighters with them, regardless of what they would otherwise have done. What was worse, the narrow streets and interconnected villages had further divided her forces, leaving those, like Morgana, who had fought their way through exposed and vulnerable.

The tide was beginning to turn in their favour though, as bands of fighter began regrouping and reforming.

“Milady! Morgana! Milady!”

She spun around, trying to identify the source of the shouts, and gestured the man over once she’d spotted him.

“Message from Lancelot, milady. All groups have taken control of the outlying villages, and are now progressing towards the city.” He told her.

“Any issues with the villagers?”

“No, milady. Most of them are staying out of the way altogether.”

“Good… Any word from Merlin or his team?”

The man shuffled. “’Fraid not, milady.”

She managed a half-genuine, relieved smile at him. “That’s good news. If they haven’t returned, the tunnel wasn’t blocked off, so they’ve gotten into the citadel. We’d know if there had been any problems.” They would, wouldn’t they?

He nodded, looking as unconvinced as she felt.

“Send out word to fall back to the villages and regroup. We’re too spread out.”

“Yes, milady.”

“That’s all. Good luck.” One last nod, and then the man dashed off again.

She signalled to her own forces, calling them back into one group again and giving them a moment’s breather, before plunging them back into the fight. With a newfound burst of determination, the outer walls of Camelot were soon in sight. Her group was nearest to the main gatehouse, so several units were sent to focus on forcing their way through, while the rest of them held off the surrounding soldiers.

Morgana wondered absently what made the soldiers keep fighting when they’d clearly been trapped out here to be slaughtered, but decided she didn’t want to know the answer.

The ground shook beneath her as the group continued to try and blast their way through with their magic, but she moved with it, rather than against it, tripping the soldier in front of her in the same motion that recovered her own balance. The soldiers behind him were still pressing too close though, and she threw out her hand on instinct sending a dozen or so soldiers flying into the men behind them.

And then, without warning, she was the one being thrown about. She had a moment or two to wonder what in the gods’ names had gone wrong with her spell, and then everything went black.

She couldn’t have stayed unconscious for long, as everything was still in chaos when she came to.

She breathed in too sharply, the dust in the air making her cough. This then had the strange effect of making her chest ache an unusual amount. There was an odd ringing in her ears, and everything seemed to be spinning a little as she tried, and failed to stand up. An arm appeared under her shoulders, helping to support her weight, and vaguely she recognised that a unit of fighters had formed a protective circle around her.

Only then did she register the gaping hole in the wall beside her. Her vision, or possibly the cloud of dust, was fighting her for the rest, but something like that was hard to miss.

The fogginess in her head was getting stronger though, and when the unit began to move her away from the walls, she didn’t even have the energy to protest.

The moments that followed were a bit blurry in Morgana’s mind. One moment she was staggering across the battlefield, then she blinked and was inside a cottage. There was a strange scent in the air, but the more she focused on it, the clearer her head became.

A movement caught her eye, and Morgana turned her head to see a familiar healer prodding at something in a brazier.

“How long before I can go back out there?”

Iseult looked scandalised. “Go back out? You were practically carried in here, milady!”

But Morgana only stared her down, and eventually the healer folded.

“Fine. Fine!” She threw up her hands in despair. “I’ll see what I can do.” She began searching around the cottage, prodding and muttering at something being mixed in a bowl.

“So what happened?”

“We’re not sure, milady.” To her surprise, it was a voice from the doorway who responded.

The man stepped closer into the light of the cottage. Morgana looked at him with as much scrutiny as her headache would let her muster, recognising him as one of the fighters in her group of forces, though she couldn’t recall his name.

“Are you one of the unit who brought me here?”

“Yes, milady. The rest have taken up defensive positions outside until you order otherwise.”

“Thank you for your help. Now, tell me what we do know.”

“We believe a dozen or so fighters were taken down by the explosion, along with many of Uther’s soldiers. A considerable number of fighters were injured, but most have continued fighting, and have pushed on into the lower town.”

“Which way the debris fall from the explosion?” Morgana asked, a thought occurring to her.

“Milady?” He looked at her in confusion.

“Did the wall explode towards us, or towards the city?”

“Towards us.”

“So it was something on the inside that caused the explosion…”

Iseult looked up at her. “Do you have any idea what?”

She thought for a moment before replying. “There were some rumours, suggesting that Uther was developing some kind of new weaponry, but we believed, if it were even true, that it wasn’t anything more than a theoretical weapon. But maybe not. Or maybe it was something else entirely. Who knows?”

“Hm.” The healer made her way back over to Morgana, holding out a cup for her to take. “This will keep you going for a few more hours, but then you really will need to take it easy. And you’re taking Cador and his unit with you.” She gestured to the fighter in the doorway.

Morgana sighed, taking the goblet. “Very well. Thank you, Iseult.”

Whatever was in the potion, and it was certainly _something_ of a magical nature, it was effective, and Morgana was soon taking her leave of the healer and heading back out to the front lines, her protective unit at her heels. With a little effort, they forced their way through the fighting in front of the wall, and into the chaos of the lower town. Units had become separated, and were apparently operating leaderless, focusing on nothing more than the next soldier to fight.

“To me!” Morgana shouted, drawing them back to the gap in the wall. “All units, to me!”

With a leader to rally behind, the units quickly reformed into some semblance of order and control. They charged onwards, smashing with ease through the fragile barriers the soldiers had made to block their paths.

As they drew closer to the upper town, Morgana was relieved to see the gate still raised high. Merlin’s team had succeeded in their mission to take and hold the gatehouse then. She could only hope that they’d been just as successful at the citadel gatehouse.

Barely a few feet across the boundary into the upper town, she was distracted by a man calling her.

“Oi, Morgana! Over here!”

“Gwaine?” She pushed her way through to his side.

“Stick someone else in charge of your lot for a bit. ‘Gause has called an emergency meeting in the gatehouse.”

“She’d kill you if she ever heard you calling her that.” She turned, and saw Cador already pushing his way to her side. “Cador, you’re in command until I return. Carry on until the next wall, but don’t continue into the citadel unless you can’t avoid it.”

“Yes, milady.” He bowed and made his way back out again, into the fight.

Morgana and Gwaine pressed on in the other direction, forcing their way through the crowd of fighters and into the gatehouse, where Morgause and Lancelot were already waiting, as well as a few members of Merlin’s team. She noticed, with no small amount of concern, that Merlin himself was nowhere to be seen, though.

Gwaine must have been thinking along the same lines, because he nudged her shoulder reassuringly. “I’m sure he’s alright. You know our Merlin – impossible to pin down when he’s determined enough to get free.”

She managed a weak smile in thanks.

“All the same, I would like to know where he’s disappeared to.” Morgause broke in with a scowl, overhearing their exchange.

Morgana went still. “No one can tell us where he is?”

Her sister gestured to one of the members of his team. Eira, if Morgana remembered rightly.

“We split up after we took the citadel gatehouse, just like we planned. He started towards this gatehouse with us at first, but then all of a sudden he was racing back towards the citadel before any of us could catch up with him. Montague went back to the other gatehouse, but Alator and the others hadn’t seen him at all.” The woman told them, the two men with her nodding in agreement.

Lancelot ran his free hand through his hair. “There’s nothing we can actually do, is there? We just have to stick to the plan, and keep going.”

“We should press on to the citadel.” Morgana insisted. “He could need our help.”

“I know you’re worried about him, Morgana – we all are – but we’re spread thin enough as it is. Any more would be suicide.”

“I hate to be the voice of reason, but Lance is right.” Gwaine added. “We need to wait for the rest of our forces to catch up with us before we can try and take the citadel.”

Morgana turned to look at her sister desperately. “What do you say?”

She hesitated. “I can’t support you in a charge on the citadel. You need me to stay with Cenred and his forces, and keep them _away_ from the centre. I’ve already been gone from them too long.”

“So that’s just it? We abandon him?”

“Morgana, he went in there alone. He may not even want our- What was that?”

A loud bang had sounded from the entrance, followed by feet sounding up the stars towards them. In one fluid motion, they all raised their swords defensively, just as the door burst open.

A collective sigh went around the room as they all lowered their weapons.

“Don’t scare us like that, Perce!” Gwaine said with half a laugh.

Percival only bent over, breathing heavily.

Morgana frowned. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Fuh… Fire. Citadel… Uther.”

“Uther started a fire?” Morgause narrowed her eyes.

Percival shook his head. “No. We… We don’t know. The king’s w-wing is on- on fire. And… And they’re saying Uther’s still in there.”

The leaders shared a look.

“This could work to our advantage. It’ll be chaos over there.” Lance offered.

“And, hey, Morgana will get her way.” Gwaine added, clapping her on the shoulder.

Morgause pursed her lips. “I should still remain with Cenred.”

Morgana nodded. “All we have to do is capture Uther before he can recover, and we’ve won.”

With their plan agreed, the respite from the fighting was over. Morgause and Lancelot headed back to lead the fighters spread further back in the conflict, while Morgana and Gwaine took the remains of Merlin’s team onwards, towards the citadel and their own forces.

They saw the smoke long before the fire, pouring out of the citadel’s gates. Soldiers were giving up on the battle left, right and centre as they raced back to the heart of the city to stop the fire from spreading. The biggest obstruction was the nobles, as they got caught between the forces while trying to flee the flames, and even they were easily dealt with.

The heat was something else though. Morgana had heard of the kinds of fires that could raze a city in a day, but she hadn’t realised just how overwhelming those fires would be. She signalled to the magic users nearest her.

“Any of you with a talent for fire, do what you can to get that under control. I’d prefer to have a city left to lead by morning.”

The group that remained, consisting of both magic users and non-, followed her up the steps and into the main halls of Camelot’s citadel.

It was slightly concerning, really, how easy it was. Any of Uther’s soldiers they encountered were running from the fire, and were far more willing to surrender than fight any of them. Any only a few corridors from the king’s wing, she found out why.

Nearly two years away, and Morgana’s memory of the castle was almost perfect. She led the way towards the king’s wing with barely a false turn, though the increasing levels of smoke was also a fairly good indicator of their route.

She was just preparing to use a spell that would help them breathe through the heavier smoke when a figure burst through. She raised her sword instinctively, but instead found it torn from her grip. A second too late, her eyes finally focused through the smoke.

“Merlin?”

“Morgana!”

She ran forward, throwing her arms around him as he caught her.

“You’re alright! But what are you doing _here_ , Merlin? What happened to the plan?” She leaned back to look at him, but he wouldn’t meet her eyes, and her worry started to resurface.

“Merlin…”

He stepped away from her, retrieving her sword and returning it.

“Come on, let’s go.” He started pulling her down the corridor, towards her team and the exit.

She resisted. “What about Uther?”

Merlin stopped short. There was a long silence, and then “Uther’s dead.”

Morgana’s mind stuttered to a stop. “What?”

“He’s dead, Morgana. He’ll never hurt anyone ever again.” He pulled away from her, leaning heavily against the wall.

Looking back at her team, Morgana made eye contact with Gwaine, who’d caught up with them, and he started leading the others back towards the entrance.

“You _didn’t_ , did you, Merlin? We were supposed to capture him, put him on trial, imprison him, give the people justice. Killing him wasn’t part of the plan.”

He still wouldn’t meet her eyes. “No, no. I… I didn’t do it. But I was _going_ to, Morgana. For a moment, I- I didn’t care about the plan. I just wanted to make him suffer.”

She leaned against the wall beside him. “What happened?” she repeated softly.

The silence stretched out between them.

“Gaius is dead.”

“…I- I’m _so_ sorry, Merlin.”

“He and some other ‘rebel sympathisers’ were executed yesterday. I just… I tried _so hard_ to keep him out of this, to keep him safe. And it was all for nothing.” He finally met her gaze, and she saw that he was blinking away tears. “There was so much I wanted to tell him. About us. And Mordred. A-And _everything_.”

Morgana gripped his hand. “At least we can give him a proper funeral.”

He nodded weakly, and she waited to see if he would speak again. There was a long pause, and then Merlin drew in a deep breath.

“We… We were going to the gatehouse when I- when I heard a guard talking about… about… I didn’t – uh – I didn’t realise what he was saying at first, but when I understood, I- I ran back to find him. To find out if it was true. And then all I could think about was… He was like a father to me, Morgana. I never knew my real father, but G-Gaius was the nearest I ever had…

“So I went after Uther. I found him as he was returning to his rooms, and confronted him… I… We knew it was bad, but it was far than anything we’d heard, Morgana. He got it into his head that his guards had been conspiring against him and just killed them, without any warning. And I think I saw the weapons that we heard about. And then we were fighting, and somewhere in the midst of all that, the room caught on fire. It might have been me, I don’t know, or maybe one of his weapons went wrong, it just all happened so fast.

“The fire and smoke helped clear my head though, strangely enough, and I realised I had to get out. I was trying to get out, but Uther just kept fighting, and the room was getting hotter, and hotter. I got through the doors just as the ceiling collapsed. Uther wasn’t so lucky.”

“…You’re sure that he’s dead?”

Merlin nodded. “I waited for him to come out, but there was nothing.”

They were silent for a moment as Morgana began to really, _properly_ process the news.

“Uther’s dead.” She tested. “He’s dead. It’s over!”

“It’s over.” Merlin agreed, and while his smile was weak, it was still a relief to see.

“It’s over! We did it! We did it… What are we going to do? There’s so much, and I don’t even know where to start. We have to legalise magic, get all of the artefacts returned to their proper owners, support the villages that got damaged in the fighting, win over the nobles… I still don’t know how to actually run a kingdom!”

He shrugged. “You’ll work it out. I believe in you.”

“I think you mean ‘ _we’ll_ work it out’ – we’re in this together, remember. And… Merlin?”

“Yeah?”

“I can’t help but notice, the smoke hasn’t been getting any worse in here.” She leaned closer in to him to look out of the window behind them. “Ah, I thought so! They’ve got the fire under control. So, are you ready to go back out there?”

She watched as he took a deep breath, settling his shoulders, before pushing away from the wall. He held out a hand to her.

“Worried?”

She scoffed weakly. “Of course not …You?”

“Who me? Never.” He echoed her bravado.

Word had spread quickly, and a substantial crowd was waiting for them. Morgana could see fighters, and soldiers, and even a few civilians and nobles. And right at the front of it, their friends were waiting.

A cry went up – “The King is dead, long live the Queen!” – but Morgana’s attention was caught elsewhere.

She nudged her husband’s shoulder. “Look, Merlin, the sunrise. It’s a new day.”

He nudged her back, a tired grin just about creeping across his features. “It’s a new era. Our era.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it. For the first time in my life, I have successfully finished a story that was more than one chapter long. And God were there some days where I was tempted to give it up and call it a lost cause. But I'm glad I stuck it out, not least of all for all of you who wanted to know where this story was going.
> 
> Thanks to all of you who have taken an interest in this story. This started out as just a bit of fun for a friend, but knowing there were people out there reading this and enjoying it made it easier to keep at it. Even if I did keep you waiting for stupid amounts of time.
> 
> As I mentioned last chapter, I've already got a new Merlin story in the planning stages, set around the development of the Purge (apparently I'm developing a thing about rebels/freedom fighters/alternative phrase). As of tomorrow, things are going to be changing around a bit, since I'm heading off to uni for the first time, and I'm not sure where my writing is going to fit into all that, but, watch this space. At the very least, I'm going to try and get some oneshots out there (including some non-Merlin ones probably), and for anything else, we'll just have to see how it goes.
> 
> Again, thank you, and I hoped you've enjoyed reading this fic.


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